


An Earnest Bid for a Protected Heart

by anarchycox



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Bachelor Auction, Banter, Dating, Friendship, Geralt is a good father, M/M, Magic is still real, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Romance, Sex, Teacher Jaskier | Dandelion, charity auction, everyone wants geralt to be happy, finding out you slept with the wrong person, geralt and yennefer are the parents that scare all the other parents, happy ever after, lambert is the best sort of asshole, or the very right person, they are still really good friends and raising ciri, witchers still witcher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:35:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24431461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox
Summary: It is 21st Century Novigrad, witchers are still witchering though not hated like they used to be. In fact several of the schools do sexy calendars, and the cats had that docuseries about them, but the wolves don't do any of that, they just care about the job.And Ciri, hence the move to the city so that she could have a good education. Geralt and Yennerfer are the terror of the PTA raising hell (an affectionate nickname for Ciri bestowed by Lambert). Ciri splits her time between her parents, who broke up over a year ago but remain the best of friends.Ciri's school is having a fundraiser and Geralt agrees to help without reading the fine print. The fine print is that it is a bachelor auction, and he is up on the block. On said block, he meets the school's music teacher Jaskier. A man he had met the week before, when they had sex in an alley behind a bar.Geralt has had worse nights in his life, he just couldn't remember them. But at least this wouldn't matter. Not like he was going to fall in love with whoever bought him, was he?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 414
Kudos: 492
Collections: Interesting Character and/or Interesting Relationship Development





	1. Chapter 1

Geralt was brushing Roach behind the house when he heard the car coming down the lane. Yen’s. That meant Ciri. “Guess it is Friday, huh?” he said to Roach with a smile. Time got a little iffy for him during the week, but Yen brought Ciri like clockwork at the end of her school week. He went around the front of the house and there was Yennefer’s hearse. He snorted a bit at the drama of it all, knowing that she sometimes picked Ciri up in it with an actual coffin in the back. And he damn well knew she used her magic to make sure that his gravel road didn’t chip the car paint. Yennefer stopped the hearse maybe a couple inches from his shins. 

They grinned at each other through the lightly tinted glass, seeing each other easily.

Fuck, Geralt loved Yen - they had just been shit as a couple. 

Ciri burst out of the hearse, “she made a skeleton pop out of the coffin, the whole football team screamed like the little bitches they are!”

“And I see we’ve spent time with Lambert this week,” Geralt said as he held his arms open and Ciri dove in.

“Knife practice,” Ciri said against his chest. “Can Dara come sleep over Saturday night?”

“If his parents say it is fine, I don’t see a problem with it,” Geralt said. He looked to Yen. “Staying for dinner?”

“I am,” Yen agreed and had this look in her eyes that meant there was fucking school paperwork to fill out. There was always paperwork to fill out. Maybe they shouldn’t have switched off homeschooling, but they had agreed when they moved to Novigrad that she would go to school, needing the socialization of more than sorceresses and witchers - Ciri had been getting a little…feral. He had tried to live in the city, but the noise and smells swiftly overwhelmed him and he moved to the outskirts, the wolves all building the house together. Ciri spent the week in school, living with Yennefer, and weekends and break weeks out with him, unless he was off on a job, and even then maybe he sometimes pulled her out of school to tag along on simple jobs, to go see Vesemir. It was like a co-op, she was getting valuable field experience. The headmaster of the school really hated them, but Yennefer had donated a fortune to the school, so they tended not to bitch too much.

Geralt went into the house, Ciri under his arm, “bought you something this week, in your room.” 

Ciri cheered and bolted down the hall. Geralt went to the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer, poured Yen a glass of wine. “What do I have to sign off on?” 

“It’s fundraiser time!” Yen said in a terrifyingly cheerful voice. “And apparently we have been derelict in our duty as parents.”

“I took care of the damn wargs that were taking over the footie pitch. You donated all those ingredients to their greenhouse! What the fuck more do they want?” He started to chop vegetables for the grill basket, a couple steaks marinating since that morning. “Also considering what the yearly price of her going there is, why exactly are we fundraising and what for?”

“The music department,” Yennefer said. “They have 2 ipads and that is it.”

“Why does a music department need tech?” Geralt scowled a bit. “They need like…pianos?”

“They need that too,” Yennefer replied. She sighed a bit. “Look I think it is bullshit too, she doesn’t even take music, she takes drama. But Dara does and apparently the acoustic guitar he was assigned was so shit it actually gave him splinters. And if he is hurt…”

“She is hurt,” Geralt sighed. “They are allowed to have sleep overs right?” He was a bit iffy on what stage boys and girls weren’t allowed to crash together. He was a bit iffy on all the parenting rules but he was trying. Three years now and he thought he was almost getting the hang of it. “Because they don’t like each other like that.” When Ciri had started at the school at the end of last year, she and Dara had met and they were goddamn soulmates, whether it was platonic or romantic, he had no clue, they were kids. They'd sort that out in time.

“No, they don’t. His parents are starting to make noises though, about appropriate friendships and door stays open and do we keep an eye on them when they are together,” Yennefer rolled her eyes. “I generally do not give a fuck, but we sometimes have to make a show of it, so assign him a separate room and make it clear you also don’t give a fuck.”

That seemed reasonable to him. “Money’s tight this quarter, Yen,” he said softly. “I want to help, whatever she needs, I am there, but -”

“This is a situation where you can donate money, or you can donate time,” she promised him. “The new music teacher had an idea, and it wasn’t a bad one. We both can donate our time for a charity auction, the more volunteers the better it will go.”

“New music teacher? What happened to the old music teacher? Did I know about the old music teacher?”

“Valdo Marx,” Yennefer said. “Apparently was using school funds to enjoy himself. He has actually been arrested, not just swept under the rug so must be serious. New teacher did a full forensic accounting of what the music department needs to be as cutting edge as the rest of the school. Only the school spent all that pretty money on the new gym and said sorry maybe in a few years. New guy said, fine we’ll raise the damn money. So charity auction.”

Geralt sort of grunted at that, and added some oil and garlic to the veg. “When?”

“Couple weeks, I already forged your signature agreeing to help.” Yennefer smiled at him. “And you have to dress nice. Maybe your work leathers?”

“I’m not a fucking security guard, Yen, I’m a witcher, why would I need my work clothes?” Geralt whistled down the hallway, “You still not eating meat?” he shouted towards Ciri’s room. 

“Meat is murder!”

“I am murder!”

“Ugh, don’t even.”

Geralt grinned well pleased with that exchange. He had also had tofu pressing and marinating since that morning just in case. “Grab us another drink, we’ll go sit by the fire pit.” He went outside and cast igni to set the pit ablaze and settled onto the bench that Eskel had made. Yennefer came and sat, tossing her feet onto his lap. He started rubbing her calves automatically. He took the beer she had brought, and she had given up pretense and was drinking straight from the bottle. “How are you doing?”

“Being respectable is difficult some days,” Yennefer said. “Other days it is fine. And it is for her, so I can cope. Respectability pays a lot more than what I was before.”

“I can move back to the city,” Geralt said, “Take on more.”

“The city was killing you love, and I don’t mean metaphorically. The noise and smell was brutal for your mutations and the migraines were verging on unbearable.” Yen kicked his jaw a bit with her bare foot. “This works. She gets the best of both worlds, a fine education, a mother’s loving touch, and whatever it is you give her that I pretend I don’t know about.” Yen gave a very pointed look to the training course that could be seen at the edge of the clearing. “Oh, we also got another letter home about her trying to wear a sword to school, and the most creative use of variations on the word fuck they’ve heard in eight years.”

“That’s Lambert’s fault.”

“ _You fuck face fucking death spawn fuckity uppity cunt, I will make you vomit your own fucking shit because of how far I jam this sword up your ass?_ ” Yennefer said.

“I thought we agreed not to go over our romantic history and repeat what we’ve said in bed,” Geralt teased, and enjoyed how Yen choked on her wine. “But I promise, I will tell Lambert to control his language around her.”

Yen kicked his face again and he kissed her ankle. Geralt went back in the house to collect food. “Want to come out and show your mom how you are doing on the pendulum?”

“Can I do it blindfolded?” Ciri shouted.

“If you think you can handle it,” he challenged. He grabbed all the food and held the door open as she just tore out and ran for the equipment. When she dislocated her shoulder, Yen easily healed it and Geralt pointed out where she went wrong as he cooked over the fire pit. They sat together and enjoyed dinner as a family before Yennefer headed back into the city. The moment she was gone the dessert of fruit was abandoned, and they broke out marshmallows to roast over the fire. His burned and he swore he preferred the taste that way. They watched a movie together and she rolled her eyes when he offered to tuck her in.

The next day was fun once Dara’s parents left and making sure to pointedly comment about how at their age certain behaviour wasn’t really appropriate anymore and they weren’t even sure they should still be having sleepovers. Geralt growled a bit and they left in a hurry. He took the kids through the woods, teaching them about tracking and setting snares and they all camped out under the stars and he didn’t say a damn word when they snuggled in the same sleeping bags and held each other.

They were cubs, enjoying a cuddle pile and there was not a damn thing wrong with that. For fuck’s sake, Ciri hadn’t even started her period yet. He didn’t think. He quickly texted Yennefer and she confirmed that detail, but suggested he should start stocking things just in case and promised to drop off a bag with Ciri next Friday. 

It was a good weekend, and Eskel called needing help with a nekker nest. He didn’t but they hadn’t seen each other in a while, so Geralt grabbed his truck Roach II and headed east. To be fair it wasn’t one nest it was three, and it took a fair bit out of them. They found the nearest bar and settled in to drink. Eskel was far too cheerful. “What?”

“You really agreed to the charity auction?”

“Of course I did, it is for Ciri’s school. And how do you know about the auction?” Geralt frowned. He thought about it some more and looked at the smirk on Eskel’s face. “And what do you know that I don’t?”

“Nothing, I am sure, that you read all the information that Yennefer left you about this fundraiser event.”

The waitress was bringing them their food when she heard that. “Oh are you talking about our fundraiser? We still have some of those Griffin Witcher calendars, each one you buy makes sure that our brave heroes can keep us safe with the best gear and enchantments possible.”

“Really? Because I didn’t see a fucking griffin clearing out the nekker nests 20 klicks down the road,” Geralt said. He looked at the waitress, who finally noticed their yellow eyes and the medallions on their necks.

“Oh, yes. Wolves, I would follow you on insta but well…do you have any social media?” She decided to just put the food down and go. They ate quickly and surveyed the bar. Eskel met a woman’s gaze and she smiled at him.

“Well, I’m set,” Eskel said. “See you at the auction.”

“Why are you going to be there?” Geralt asked.

“Supporting Ciri of course. Never know there might be something I want to buy.”

Geralt grunted. He looked around a bit, wasn’t seeing anyone he wanted to fuck, to get the last of the hunt energy out. He signaled for another beer and a man sat across from him. 

“Hello, there,” the man said.

Geralt just looked at him. He was bold, that was something. “Yes?”

“Witcher?” He was looking him up and down and smiled slowly. “Never actually had the chance to meet one before. I have so many questions?”

He wasn’t ugly, and Geralt could smell the interest on him. “How many do I have to answer before we fuck in the back alley?”

“Five,” the man said with a grin. “Three if you actually provide real answers, and don’t just grunt and say that counts.”

Geralt couldn’t stop the smile that spread on his face. “Ask away.”

They talked for an hour never bothering to exchange names, and then went to the back alley, and the man was a good fuck. Cheerful, willing, and was damned good at saying very interesting things as Geralt pressed into him. After the man was smiling, and smelling very satisfied. “One more question?”

“Sure,” Geralt agreed, pretty satisfied himself. “Want to know my name?”

“Oh who cares about that?” the man was smiling. “Are the rumours true that witchers have interesting stamina?” His smile grew filthy and his raised brow was intriguing, but Geralt was good for now.

“If we ever run into each other again, maybe you’ll find out,” Geralt answered and went to his truck.

It had been a good day. By the time he got home he forgot all about reading the information about the charity auction.

*

Geralt stared at the stage. “I’m sorry, what sort of auction is this, Yennefer?”

“I wish I could be surprised that you didn’t do your homework, but I am not and your face is so glorious right now I cannot even pretend to be mad at you.” Yennefer was grinning at him. “It is a bachelor and bachelorette auction. Win a date with the person of your dreams. Let your hearts make glorious music so that your children can learn glorious music.”

“So all my family are here to -”

“Watch you get sold to the highest bidder,” Yennefer agreed and waved at Lambert who made fucking finger guns back at her with the biggest smile Geralt had ever seen on his face before. Ciri was under Vesemir’s arm talking a mile a minute and Vesemir pretended he cared deeply about whatever it was that held her fascination this week. “You look nice.”

He was wearing black leather pants with a black shirt, just open enough to show his wolf medallion. He had washed his damn hair. “What sort of date am I offering, Yen?”

“A night of magic and mystery, of adventure and promise. Who is brave enough to dare journey with a witcher through a haunted building?” she said dramatically, her gestures creating smoke in the air. “Who has the daring, the heart to have a midnight picnic in the House of Forbidden Sorrow?”

“That place isn’t haunted,” Geralt whispered. “It’s just old and abandoned because of unpaid taxes.”

“Yes, we know that, but the average person here doesn’t. And thanks to those bastard cats having that docuseries on the discovery channel, people are really into witchers right now.”

“Oh joy,” Geralt sighed. “Are you up for auction too?”

“Of course, and 5 crowns says I bring in more money than you,” she smiled and batted her lashes at him. 

“You terrify them all.”

“Yes, but lots of people like to be scared, Geralt, makes other passions rise.”

“Excuse me?” A voice cut through the crowd. It sounded a little familiar. “Hello and welcome to the charity auction to support the music program for Novigrad’s finest school for children. I would ask all those who are our incredible volunteers please come to the stage! Oh and sorry, yes, for those who haven’t met me yet, I am Julian Alfred Pankratz the new music instructor for the school. The auction will begin in fifteen minutes.”

“Fuck,” Geralt said.

“No, thank you, not tonight, why?” Yennefer asked. She took a good look at Geralt’s face. “What did you do?”

“Bang Ciri’s new music teacher in an alley last week,” he whispered. He decided to walk away from her and walk up to the stage when it was clear she wasn’t going to stop laughing. He nodded to the new music teacher and held out his hand, “Geralt of Rivia, pleasure to meet you.”

The man cleared his throat, loudly and it was picked up by the mic. He quickly shut it off. “Julian, or Jaskier to my friends. You are?”

“Cirilla’s father. She isn’t in music.”

“Oh Dara’s friend, they are inseparable,” Jaskier smiled a bit. “Well I certainly appreciate you helping out the auction like this. You are on my list of a big money getters, you and Cirilla’s…mother?” He gave a smile to Yennefer who was still standing below the stage laughing. “Well, thank you so much. Yes, well good. Please have a seat we’ll sell off your taut ass very soon.”

Geralt didn’t laugh at the horror on the man’s face when he realized what he said, but it was close. He went and sat in a chair in the back row and they filled in quickly. A fair number of them were apparently being sold off. Yennefer sat beside him. “So how was he?” Geralt just grunted in reply. He looked to the crowd and Lambert grinned and brought out a camcorder to film the whole thing. Geralt flipped him off. “So, that good huh?” Yennefer laughed again. “This is just fantastic.”

“Shut up,” he growled and the woman beside him eased away from him and warded for the evil eye. He sighed a bit, used to it, though it wasn’t as bad as it used to be.

Yennefer leaned over him, hand protectively on his thigh. “He isn’t the one you have to be scared of, you know. I recall at the PTA meeting you ate those lemon squares I brought, isn’t that interesting?” 

The woman squeaked and ran off the stage.

“Oops,” Geralt snickered and wrapped an arm over Yennefer’s shoulder. “You won’t be asked to help out the bake sale.” His phone buzzed and he held it out to Yennefer so she could see the text from Vesemir ordering them to behave and be a good example for their daughter. They both just slouched more in their chairs and glared at everyone.

Jaskier went back to the mic and turned it back on. “Well, my darling hats and cats, let’s raise some money!”

Geralt ignored everything going on and stared at Jaskier’s ass.


	2. Chapter 2

Geralt entered a light meditative state as the auction began because he did not give a fuck, and if he didn’t meditate he’d fall asleep and snore. He was vaguely aware that the rows in front of him were emptying as the auction went on, and that Jaskier seemed to have the crowd engaged. Geralt could just barely hear the rise and fall of his voice, he could feel the room was engaged in what was going on. That was good. Ciri would be happy for Dara. His unfocused gaze had stayed settled on Jaskier’s ass because it was the best thing to stare at as far as he could tell.

Yen stepped on him with those fucking pointy boots of hers, and it pulled him out of the meditation. He realized that they were the only two people left. Yen moved to the front, in a swirl of black skirts and fuck you attitude. Geralt was honestly surprised she agreed to be auctioned off. She was very picky about whom she spent time with. She stood there and Geralt snorted as fog enveloped her legs. Selling it a bit much he thought, but the crowd was oohing and aahhing, and Ciri loved seeing her mother’s magic.

Geralt hoped she would never have to see just how strong Yen was. 

“And now, it is my esteemed pleasure to present to you Yennefer of Vengerberg,” Jaskier began in a low voice, “the mysterious and enchanting sorceress. She is offering an evening of wonder and possibility for anyone bold enough to claim it. A chance to learn your future, how to seek your fortune, after a horse drawn carriage takes you to the most exclusive dining in town, you’ll discover the secrets of chaos and how to harness it yourself. Shall was start the bidding at 50 crowns?”

Geralt cackled when Lambert’s hand shot up in the air.

“No,” Yennefer said.

That caused Jaskier to pause. “I’m sorry?”

“No,” Yennefer repeated. “Lambert put your fucking hand down, I’d eat you alive.”

“Geralt is still standing, I’d survive,” he called back.

“Gross,” Ciri said, and tried to hide from her family’s antics.

“Oh sweet baby, you really wouldn’t,” she chided.

“60 crowns,” Lambert called out, his grin grew wider.

“No,” Yen repeated. “Who’s next?”

“I think I am running this?” Jaskier said, and Geralt almost pitied him.

“You are cute,” Yen replied as she pat his shoulder. “Who bids 100 crowns? No, not you, you cheat at Gwent. No not you either, you smell even more like onion than Geralt. Yes fine, you may bid. Now who bids 200?”

“That’s -” Jaskier began, and when Yen held up her hand, Geralt saw he was smart enough to shut up.

“500 crowns,” a smooth voice called from the back.

Geralt perked up a bit because he knew that voice. Triss was back in town. He looked at Yen, who was trying to look uninterested. Well, now that was very interesting.

“600 crowns,” Lambert called out.

Geralt, and the whole family looked at him, because how the fuck did he have that spare money?

“Lambert are we really going to play this game?” Triss asked as she walked up the aisle in her leather pants and waistcoat. “900 crowns.”

“905,” Lambert said.

“1000,” Triss countered.

“Sold,” Yen shouted.

“I feel like we could have squeezed a bit more out of the big dick energy they were trying to bring there,” Jaskier said.

“Oh, darling, I don’t try anything,” Triss called out, and Lambert cackled in glee. 

“Missed you, Triss.”

“I did not miss you,” she replied, but Geralt saw the wink she gave him. The room grew very uncomfortable with the way Triss and Yen were eye fucking each other. Geralt enjoyed the sight himself. Remembered a very interesting weekend once upon a time. Before there were cars and computers. The good old days. He was happy though for modern plumbing. And television was pretty fun. He was so lost in his thoughts about what had been better or worse over the last hundred or so years, that he missed his name being called.

“Geralt?” Jaskier had to repeated.

Oh, it was his turn. Right. He grunted and stood up. He moved to the front of the stage next to Jaskier, and saw Lambert fire up the camcorder. Lovely. Ciri waved furiously up at him, and he couldn’t stop the faint smile on his face as he gave a wave back. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, not only a formidable witcher but a loving father. Get you a man who can do both, am I right? Geralt of Rivia is offering a moonlight picnic in a haunted house for those who are looking for an adventure. Who is daring enough among you? We know from that cat witcher docuseries, that witchers are all sorts of interesting in their personal lives. Who wants some interesting?”

Geralt winced. He wanted to say things about that but he wouldn’t while on stage with his fucking daughter in the audience.

His family would though. “Boo,” Lambert called, “Those guys are fucking useless.”

“Do you know the history of the cat school?” Eskel glared. “They took human contracts as recently as 200 years ago!”

“Do you know what they did to our ancestral home?” Vesemir added. “I do. I was there.”

“I…see,” Jaskier said. “Well shall we start the bidding at 50 crowns? For a date with a real live witcher?”

There was silence for a moment before a voice called out and Geralt was relieved. The bidding wasn’t moving quickly but at least he was fucking bid on. He paused though because he recognized one of the voices. Keira. Shit. He shot his gaze to Yen and tilted his head, she could hex the damn woman, stop her from winning this. But Yen’s grin was positively evil and she did nothing.

Fuck.

The bidding was starting to grow brisk and Keira was getting aggressive about it. He texted Eskel begging his damn family to bid on him if they pooled their money it could work. But they just sent back a laughing emoji. Lambert kept filming, evil glee on his face the bastard’s face. He looked to Jaskier, to his back alley fuck. “Please,” he whispered. He knew he couldn’t get away with just saying no like Yen did. When she did shit like that it was charming. He tried, he’d look like an asshole. He looked in the crowd and Keira licked her lips.

He was going to be eaten alive.

“400 crowns,” Jaskier blurted out into the microphone, and the room went silent.

“Ha, this is getting great,” Lambert was so fucking happy right now, Geralt was beating him up later.

“Surely that is a conflict in interest?” Keira called.

“My auction, my rules, and my coin is as good as anyone else’s,” Jaskier said.

“450,” she challenged.

“500,” Jaskier shouted in the mic.

“600.”

“700,” Jaskier said.

Keira paused, clearly thinking about it. She looked Geralt up and down. “Never mind, he regularly forgets to bathe anyways.” 

“Anyone else?” Jaskier sounded a little manic. “Good. Fine then. Sold to me for 700 crowns. That concludes our auction, you can pay the school secretary and sign off on the safety agreement, at which time you may speak to your date and make plans. Thank you so much for supporting our music program, I promise that tonight you have made a real different to your children’s education.”

Geralt clapped, which lead to the whole room applauding. He didn’t bother for the stairs just jumped off the stage, landed easily. 

“Damn,” Jaskier whispered, and then the mic screeched a bit as it was turned off. 

Geralt didn’t look back just went to his family. “Have fun?” He glared at them a bit. “You know Keira is…” he tried to think of a polite phrase to say in front of Ciri.

“Freakishly warm for your form?” Lambert offered.

“70 years into wanting to see exactly what Triss and Yen saw in you?” Eskel offered.

“Wait, you dated Triss?” Ciri asked. “When?”

“In between the third and fourth time your mother and I tried to make a go of it?” Geralt thought. “Or was it two and three?” He couldn’t quite remember. He looked to his family for help but they just shrugged. Not like they kept track of what sorceress he was fucking when. He had a type over the years, it was mostly women who were terrifying. 

“Keira has been interested in you for a while,” Vesemir said. “I remember that one -”

“No,” Geralt said firmly. He didn’t really know what Vesemir was going to say, but he really doubted it was safe for Ciri’s ears. 

“You’ll have fun with Mr. Pankratz, Geralt,” Dara had wandered over, “He is a great teacher.”

“Yes, Geralt maybe you’ll learn a few things.” Lambert was making faces that made him looked possessed. At least Eskel was just wiggling his eyebrows.

“Are you interested in music sir?” Dara asked.

“How about you and Ciri go check out the snack table your teachers put out?” Geralt suggested. He nudged them along. “What the fuck do I do? I sure as hell can’t take him out on a midnight picnic to a haunted house, can I?”

“It isn’t haunted,” Lambert and Eskel said at the same time.

“I know that,” Geralt replied. “But it is an ethics thing, isn’t it? Dating a teacher?” He was sure it had to be. The rules book they had been given when they signed Ciri up for the school was very large. He and Yen had lit it on fire.

“I don’t think this actually constitutes dating,” Vesemir pointed out. “Just a charity thing. Plus he isn’t currently teaching Ciri, so no chance of playing favourites. I doubt he would have purchased your company if it was against the rules.”

“Hmm, and you make me sound like a Victorian lady of the night,” Geralt grumbled. “I should have read the papers.”

“But you never do,” Vesemir chided. “I am heading down Cintra way, heard some rumours I want to follow up on. Could use company, based on the rumours.”

“I’ll go with,” Lambert offered. “I’ve heard those same rumours.”

“Say goodbye to Ciri, before you head out,” Geralt told them. He pressed his forehead to Vesemir’s “Good hunting.” Vesemir’s hands gripped his shoulders and they stayed like that for a moment before Vesemir went to where Ciri and Dara were eating all the brownies.

Lambert and Geralt just stared at each other. “If you hug me, I’ll stab you.”

“We have a girl cub now, we are supposed to be in touch with our feelings. Remember?” Geralt teased. He had once caught Lambert reading about how to help older adopted children adapt to a family. He pulled Lambert in for a hug, and the man cursed but didn’t stab him, and in fact hugged him back. “Come back in one piece.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lambert muttered and squeezed him tight. “I’ll bring back something cool for Ciri.”

Last time something cool had been a very large snake. Named Princess Buttercup. It had been donated to a zoo. It was a rare enough species they actually had lifetime passes. He didn’t protest though, because if he did, then Lambert would bring something even crazier and he was not prepared for that. Lambert went over picked up both Ciri and Dara and kissed them before he headed after Vesemir who was already out of the building.

“You have a hunt too?” Geralt asked.

“No, I was hoping to crash with you for a few days?” Eskel asked. 

“Of course, what’s wrong?” Geralt looked at him. “Injury?”

“Just a few ribs. Healed, but could use a few days of rest. Damn pestas.”

“Inhaled poison?”

“Hmm,” Eskel agreed. 

Yen had moved over to Ciri and was stroking her hair. Ciri leaned into her and Yen shot Geralt a look. Shit, he probably should have been monitoring brownie intake, because Ciri was looking rough. Yen opened a portal and they were gone. He’d drive Yen’s car back to their house in a bit, check on Ciri. Generally, once she puked up all the refined sugar she was fine.

“Your date is coming over. I’m going to head out to your place. See you there, or will you crash at Yen’s?”

“Not sure yet, depends on Ciri,” Geralt said. In theory with it being the weekend Ciri’d be with him, but she always preferred her mother when she was sick. Eskel nodded and left.

Geralt watched Jaskier approach. He was holding a few papers in his hands. “What are those?”

“You need to sign off that you won’t murder me on our date,” Jaskier explained. “If you do, they’ll expel your child from the school.”

“And you know, have me arrested I hope?”

“Well, to the board, not having your child in these hallowed halls is a far worse punishment,” Jaskier said. He showed Geralt where to sign. “I believe Yennefer tried to sign these for you, but she was told it needed your actual signature.”

“Usually the school doesn’t notice when she forges my signature,” Geralt muttered and signed in the four spots. He didn’t bother reading it.

“I don’t think you should have told a teacher that,” Jaskier pointed out. “So, when would you like to have our little adventure?”

For a moment Geralt thought about their fuck in that alley. How the man had felt around his cock, everything that had been whispered into his ear. “When would you like to adventure?” Geralt’s voice was even lower than normal.

“You know you just signed that there will be no sex on this date right?” Jaskier was a bit flushed. “Nothing more than a romantic and gallant kiss to the hand.”

“Fuck,” Geralt cursed. “Do we really have to have a picnic in a haunted house that isn’t actually haunted?” He loathed the idea. But he saw Jaskier’s shoulders drop a bit, and shit it seemed like maybe the man didn’t hate the idea. 

“No, no of course we don’t,” Jaskier said. “It would silly right?”

“Wednesday night?” Geralt said. “Just not midnight, because that is a little hokey. What about 9?”

“9 would fine,” Jaskier agreed. “This really did raise a lot of money for the program. Thank you for your help.”

“Any allergies or anything for the picnic?”

“I dislike boar?”

“Me too,” Geralt said. “Good. We should…contact info?” They exchanged information and someone called to Jaskier, and he smiled and was gone. 

Geralt went out and drove Yen’s hearse back to her house, let himself in. They were snuggled on the couch a bucket on the floor, some movie with young people singing on the tv. Yen was clearly trying to make the characters in the movie die with her mind. 

“My tummy hurts,” Ciri whined just a bit. 

Geralt sat on the ground next to the puke bucket, ignoring the smell that lingered even though it had been emptied and rinsed. He lay his hand on her tummy and began to rub slow, small circles. She was so fucking small, his hand covered most of her stomach. He let his heat seep into her skin through her pajamas that were covered in dragons. “Your mother and I met a golden dragon once, you know. He was very nice.” He rubbed the circles and told a very edited story of their adventure with Borch. Ciri was looking almost better which meant there would be one more incident. Sure enough, there was a cough, and he quickly moved the bucket in place. The last of the brownie came up and through the smell of puke, he could smell something different. He sniffed Ciri’s neck. “Why do you smell different?”

“I smell different? You sure it isn’t the puke?”

“No, you smell like ovulation,” Geralt replied without thinking. Ciri turned bright red. “And I will go clean the puke bucket now.” Geralt got up and went to the bathroom. He dumped the puke down the toilet, and began to rinse the bucket out in the bathtub. He didn’t say anything as Yen came in. “How much does she hate me?”

“You know that she could never hate you, but she is a bit embarrassed. At least we know when her first period will be starting.”

“You would have smelled it too,” Geralt muttered.

“Yes, but I managed not to blurt it out.” Yen sat on the bathroom counter. “Not quite sure how you apologize for that.”

“No fucking clue,” Geralt agreed. “I was debating crawling out that window there.” They both looked at the window that even Ciri would have a difficult time fitting through. “Yen, it is so fucking hard.”

“I know. You actually feel shit now.”

“Always felt shit, I just ignored it until I was hated and then moved on.” He put the bucket on the ground.

“Never hated you,” she said and Geralt just looked at her. “Individual days of hating you does not equal hating you in general. And I was equal in the good and the bad of us.” She smiled at him. “And it is all different now. So I am going to have a bath, and you are going out there and fixing it. Staying the night is your choice.” Yen hopped off the counter and stripped down. Geralt readied the bath water for her, as he knew how she liked it, and he had always enjoyed doing this for her. When she was in the water, he checked the temperature and went to the shelf, retrieving her a pure black bath bomb that she had Ciri had made. Yen charged a fortune for the healing bath bombs she made and it was mostly bullshit. He dropped the bomb in the water and smiled at how it slithered and moved in the water. “You are delaying. Go.” 

Geralt nodded and went out. Ciri was no longer in the family room, so he went, gently knocked on her door. “Cub? Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

He opened the door and she was in bed, reading a beastiary that Vesemir had gifted her. “Some light reading?” he teased - the book was ancient and weighed a fuck ton. She rolled her eyes and put it beside her. “Can I sit?” When she nodded, he sat on the edge of the bed. “Room looks good. I like the blue.” He was pretty sure the walls were a different colour than when he had last been in it. “And the really fucking creepy theatre masks on the wall there.”

“Auntie Tissaia gave them to me, because of how well I’m doing in my drama courses. She is as old as Uncle Vesemir, maybe older. Said she saw them used on stage three hundred years ago.”

“Hmm,” Geralt stared at them and swore they stared back even with the empty eye holes. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. 

“Why?”

“Because I shouldn’t blurt out things like that,” Geralt said after he thought about it for a moment. “I’m used to…on hunts I spend a lot of time alone, in the truck, on Roach. When you are chasing a creature, you tend to talk to yourself out loud, as you work through the evidence. It was just automatic, an unexpected scent, catalogue it by saying it out loud. Only realized after - not a corpse, but my daughter.”

“Geralt, that was a fucked up sentence.”

“Don’t say fuck.”

“All of you say it, all the time.”

“You crack 100, you can say fuck all you want.” Geralt cupped her head. “I am sorry.” He blinked and caught her as she flung herself at him. “You were ten, yesterday when we brought you home. How fast are the next few years going to be?”

“I dunno. Seem slow.”

“Time is fucked up like that.” He kissed her head. “How are you feeling?”

“Bit fucking wonky still.”

“Cirilla.”

“I mean, perchance a bit under the weather still, and gentle rubs upon my aching belly would remedy the situation.”

Geralt crawled into her bed, and she snuggled up into him. She was so damn small, he wondered when she’d have a teen growth spurt, how much she would grow - if her height would match the heart and power that burned in her. But he supposed if it did, she’d have to turn into a dragon or a mountain or something. He held her close and rubbed her stomach. “Big step this coming week. Bleeding from your crotch monthly for the next several decades. I hear it is agony for some women.”

“I hate you.”

“Weird cravings. I knew a woman once, few days before her courses, would eat a whole damn pig.”

“Period, Geralt. In the twenty first century it is called a period.”

Right, period. He would remember that. “Do I have to help celebrate your journey into womanhood?”

“Stop talking.” 

Geralt smiled at the elbow she delivered to his gut. “When you are two hundred, you will still be my little cub.” He quieted and rubbed her stomach. “Ciri?”

“Mmm?” she was already half asleep.

“Witchers don’t slay dragons, but you know I would slay anything else for you? Trolls and vampires, bog hags. I will do everything I can to make your life not be shit.”

“Next weekend can we go riding? I miss riding Roach.”

He smiled a bit. He was going to an auction this week, and was hoping to get her own horse. “That sounds good.”

“Stay?”

“Of course,” he said and let his warmth soothe her. They fell asleep together, Geralt’s feet hanging over the end of the too small for him bed, his arms holding her protectively. 


	3. Chapter 3

Geralt stared at Eskel. “What is that?”

“A picnic basket? Because picnic date?” Eskel held the basket up. He even gave it a bit of a shake. “I spent all day on this while you were at that horse auction.”

Geralt looked at the basket. “I thought picnic basket was a phrase. I didn’t think there were actually picnic baskets. Did I own one? I feel like I would remember owning one.” He was confused. “I had a backpack ready.” The basket radiated menace and magic. “What did you pay for that?” He had just spent a good bit of money on the horse for Ciri, and the basket was large and new looking.

“Nothing,” Eskel reassured him. “Found it on a hunt a few months ago. Some idiots thought a romantic picnic in Velen was a good idea. But it carried the drowner organs well, so I kept the basket after I sold the organs.”

“Hmm, nice” Geralt took the basket. “Heavy.”

“Didn’t know what he liked to eat so over packed, all cold stuff. Is that what you are wearing?”

“Yes,” Geralt paused. Looked down at his jeans and black teeshirt. “Why?”

“No, nothing it is fine,” Eskel said. “You confirm that wardrobe choice with Yennefer?”

Geralt made a face at him. “No, I think I can dress myself for one damn charity date. It is a picnic in a not at all haunted haunted house. Jeans and a tee are fine. They are clean, never been on a hunt -”

“Just tight enough to show off your body?” Eskel teased. “How are you actually going to sit on the ground in those jeans without busting a seam?”

Geralt flipped him off. “In an hour check on how Kelpie is doing?” Ciri’s gelding was beautiful and spirited, and he wanted them to settle in fine. “They seemed fine with Roach, but still.”

“I’ll check on them,” he promised. “Now go, make awkward small talk over a picnic.”

Geralt sighed. He was interested in perhaps seeing Jaskier again, but the whole set up with this was absurd. He drove to the address that Jaskier had texted him, and once out front, he hit the horn on his truck. Immediately, he felt Yen screaming in his head and got out of the car. He hurried up the front and properly noticed the house. House was a generous word. Geralt knocked on the door, and waited. “How do you even get in the house?” Geralt asked.

“Carefully,” Jaskier said as he ducked out his front door. “The rest of the place is tall enough, the front door is just…”

“Stupid?”

“Low,” Jaskier said. “It is a charming little cottage.”

“It is little,” Geralt agreed. 

“Yes, yes, trust me I’ve heard every joke about the place you can image, but see it has a big advantage. No neighbours, I get loud with my music, not bothering anyone. You look nice, by the way.”

Geralt gave Jaskier an equally thorough up and down. The man was also in jeans, but his shirt was a brightly patterned button up that seemed to have not been buttoned up very much. There was a good bit of jewelry on his fingers, around his neck. There was a bit of eyeliner and cologne, but luckily a very light scent. “You look good.”

“Thanks. So, haunted house, I’m excited. Ask me how much I love haunted house stories,” Jaskier was almost bouncing as he walked, and he wasn’t checking sight lines, shadows or anything else. He needed to be more careful. “Go on, ask.”

“A lot,” Geralt said after a moment.

“Oooh brooding quiet type, taking me to a haunted house picnic, fuck nineteen year old me would be swooning,” Jaskier was grinning. “Absolutely swooning.”

“Yes nineteen was so far away for you,” Geralt snorted. If the man was over twenty five he’d be shocked.

“Melitele bless you,” Jaskier said. “Thirty four last year.”

“Huh,” Geralt said. “You look younger.”

“If we’re doing this, you are?”

Geralt thought about it. “I don’t think I’ve passed one hundred and fifty but stopped counting after ninety.” He remembered that he was supposed to hold the truck door open for his date, and got a wink for his trouble. Also a good view of Jaskier’s ass as he climbed into the high vehicle. That he was pretty sure was on purpose. He slid into driver’s seat and took them into the heart of Novigrad’s oldest district. Geralt wondered how Yen had gotten the paperwork for them to go into the house, it was not open to the public at all. But he never questioned Yen’s ways. 

They parked around the corner from the house and the key to get through the gate was ancient and magical, and mainly used to keep graffiti artists away from the building. “And I forgot the picnic basket. Hang on.” Geralt hurried back to the truck, and paused. He listened carefully because there was something. Then it was gone. Probably just a rat or something. He pulled the basket of out back of the truck and there was that noise again. He wanted to strap his swords to his back but he was fairly that was bad auction date etiquette, even if Jaskier was the sort to fuck a strange witcher in a back alley. 

Still, he grabbed his silver chain and quickly wrapped it around his waist, because that something was there again. The basket in hand he returned to the front gate and Jaskier wasn’t waiting. “Fuck.” The front door was already open and he hurried in. “Jaskier?” He could smell him and followed the trail to the old ballroom. Jaskier was standing in the middle looking up at the ceiling. There were some old candles on the tables and Geralt flicked his wrist to light them. He smiled a bit when that made Jaskier jump. “Just signs, not real magic.”

“Still impressive. This room is beautiful, can we eat in here?”

Geralt shrugged, he didn’t particularly care, and that something that was bothering him wasn’t in this particular room. He opened the basket and there was a thin blanket on top; damn Eskel had really thought of everything. He spread out the blanket and there it was above them. Just rats. This place wasn’t haunted, witchers had checked it last decade. Maybe two. Geralt looked around. For a place that had been abandoned for forty years, it didn’t smell stale. Whatever bank had the trust must come and air it out.

“Hello?” Jaskier said and Geralt grunted. The man had been talking and he had been ignoring it. Shit. “Lost in thoughts?”

“Something like that.” Geralt unpacked the food and was impressed.

“That is a nice spread, you really went above and beyond,” Jaskier said as he helped take lids off tupperware. “This looks gorgeous.” He grinned, “So, who put it together for you?”

“I am perfectly capable of -” Geralt stopped talking when Jaskier just snorted. “Eskel. I did dress myself though.”

“I would hope a man in his hundreds could manage that,” Jaskier teased. He put some food on the plate Geralt handed him, and handed it back. “Here you go.”

Geralt was confused. “Huh?”

Jaskier shrugged. “It’s nothing, just being polite.”

Geralt could smell the lie in those words but it wasn’t a big one so he didn’t respond. Instead he poured out the small carafe of wine, just enough for one glass each. He handed the cup to Jaskier and took a sip. “So…” fuck, he needed to make small talk that is what you did on dates. He thought. In the movies Ciri liked, people talked on dates. Often about a song coming on the radio that had deep emotional significance to one of the characters and made the other look at them in awe. That wasn’t an option. “Teaching. It’s a thing you do.”

“Wow, when was your last date?” Jaskier asked. He put some meat and cheese on a cracker and ate it. Geralt couldn’t stop staring at his fingers. The man had great hands. He always liked hands on people. Yen had gorgeous hands. That was a weird body part to fixate on. “Where do you keep going?”

Geralt blinked. “Hmm?”

“Is it that you really don’t want to be doing this, that you really don’t want to be doing this with me? Or what?” Jaskier was looking at the picnic and the ballroom. “We can just go, not like I’m going to demand a refund.”

“Never.”

“That is sweet but…”

Geralt shook his head. “I’ve never dated.” He thought about it some more. “Wait, I met…and we…does a cult orgy count as dating?”

“It does not,” Jaskier replied. “You have to have dated. You have the whole history with Yennefer. I read the book.”

“What book?” Geralt asked.

“Fuck,” Jaskier groaned. “There is no book in the teacher break room that has every rumour about the two of you collected in it, and no one ever adds to it based on anything they hear out in the world, and definitely no one added in a weird illustration of you and Yennefer fucking on an unicorn.”

“Huh how’d the school find out about that?” Geralt was impressed, because Ciri sure as fuck did not know about. His money was on Lambert, because he would share that story.

“Wait that really happened? How do you fuck on a unicorn?” Jaskier held up a hand. “Please don’t tell me about how you and your ex/maybe not completely ex/the betting pool in the office figures you’ll be back together in six months and why am I telling you all this?” 

Geralt chuckled a bit as Jaskier quickly ate some more food. “Put a few crowns on us never getting back together,” Geralt offered and ate a little bit as well. “I love her, will until my dying day, but fuck if I had to live with her again.” Geralt just shuddered a bit. 

“You can have a dying day?” Jaskier was quiet and drank wine. “Fuck, sorry. Don’t answer that. You’ve never dated, and I’ve dated everyone, and we are just having the worst conversation.”

“Not boring though,” Geralt offered. There was a creak above them. “Why’d you buy me?” It had been preying on his mind, and he was very curious about the answer. There was another creak and he ignored it because the house was not haunted.

“You seemed desperate not to be bought by that woman,” Jaskier said after a moment. He pushed the plate away and Geralt realized they had eaten most of the food that Eskel had put together. “And, well, it was you.”

“Me?” Geralt pulled cookies out of the basket, and his medallion warmed against his skin, which he ignored because the building was not fucking haunted.

“From the bar. Best rando fuck I ever had? And you were on my stage, offering yourself up. And I thought, well, let’s see if maybe there is a bit more to him that the best dick I rode in - what the fuck is that?” Jaskier shouted the last bit and was scrambling back.

“That is nothing,” Geralt said, a low growl in his voice, as he pulled the silver chain from around his waist, “Because this ‘haunted’ building is not fucking haunted.” He spun and snapped the chain out like a whip, and the wraith screamed. “Fuck, Jaskier run!”

“Is that a ghost? It looks angry, and if it is ghost shouldn’t it just go right through that chain. I thought you were just accessorizing because your clothes were a bit dull and -”

“Will you fucking run?” Geralt roared and whipped the wraith again with the chain. It cut the creature’s cheek and he cast yrden to hold in place. “Go!” He was relieved because the man finally got up and ran. “It was already a shitty date, why the fuck did you have to make it worse?” he yelled at the creature and threw chain, hoping to bind it, but his yrden was crap at the best of times and it easily disappeared. 

Geralt spun slowly in a circle as he listened, waited. Wraiths once they knew you were there, always came back. He shifted onto the balls of his feet and began to circle the chain, letting it strike the ground, knowing the wraith would think it would cover the reappearing noise.

He didn’t hear the wraith, what he did hear footsteps running towards him. He glanced over and there was Jaskier holding his swords. “What the -” The wraith popped up and sent him flying into the wall.

“I have your swords!” Jaskier said, “And oh fuck, hello there, ghosty ghost ghost. Did anyone tell you the tattered look suits you?” Jaskier was backing away and he was pale. “I have a sword here, and I’ll have you know, I was the understudy to the understudy for a play about a very excellent swordsman.”

Geralt didn’t care about finesse, he just threw the chain which made the wraith disappear. He ran over and grabbed the silver sword, unsheathed it. “These were in a lock box.”

“I’m really good at picking locks. I had a wild youth.”

“You seem to be having a wild present,” Geralt snarled. He pushed Jaskier down and the wraith was right there behind him. He slashed with the sword and flipped over Jaskier pressed his attack. A few strokes and the wraith was done. He listened, because where there was one wraith, there was two. He ran upstairs and saw the bodies on the ground, a sacrifice. “Fuck,” he spun with the sword, and managed to pull short before he beheaded Jaskier.

“I have your chain? In case you need help?” The two other wraiths appeared behind Geralt and he spun, fought, and tried to ignore that Jaskier wasn’t running away, but holding the fucking chain at the ready. He was shaking, Geralt could smell his fear, but he was at the ready. It was a few moments, and then it was all done. The room felt lighter and he looked around the room. He called the city guard, because there was a murderer somewhere out there.

He cleaned his sword and then gently took the chain from Jaskier. “You should go outside,” he was almost whispering as he did when Roach was spooked. “Wait for the city guard.”

“But what if there are more and you need me?” Jaskier’s pupils were enormous and the adrenaline smell coming off him would be repugnant to humans who would just smell the sweat. It was intoxicating to Geralt and making his head swim. Added to that was not that Jaskier wanted to be protected but that he thought he could help. Because he had. 

“I’m going to be right behind you,” Geralt promised. “And there is nothing left to worry about.”

Jaskier nodded, and left. Geralt collected the wraith ash because it was handy and used the tupperware from the picnic basket. He also slid a few other things into the basket that the city guard did not need to know about, could not cope with, and Eskel was right - picnic baskets were dead useful for collecting this sort of stuff. He went outside and Jaskier was talking to the city guard about his interpretation of the night.

Geralt added his details, kept it brief.

“Thought you witchers said the place was clear,” one guard said. “Those mutant powers slipping? Always said you weren’t needed anymore.”

“Excuse me?” Jaskier started forward. “Are you serious right now?”

“That you,” Geralt quickly interrupted. “If we are done here, which we are, we will be leaving now.”

“Just a moment,” the guard started to protest, but the other had a bit of a brain and said they were free to leave. Geralt pulled Jaskier away, because the man looked like he wanted to cause trouble and there had been enough of that tonight. Geralt looked at the lock case in his truck. The lock had been busted open with a rock.

“Lock picker in your youth?”

“Didn’t say I was subtle about it,” Jaskier said. He ran a hand through his hair and there was a tremor in his hands. “So, not haunted hmm?”

“Wasn’t last I heard,” Geralt said. He held the door open for Jaskier and drove the man back to his place. He was antsy from the unexpected hunt, he’d be working out for a long time when he got home, a beer and a hard wank. “Well, did you get your money’s worth?” was all he could think to say. He drummed his fingers on the wheel while he waited for Jaskier’s laughter to die out. “Have a good night. I will perhaps see you at the school when we get called into the headmaster’s office. It happens a couple times a month.” 

He was a bit confused though when Jaskier didn’t get out of the car. He pulled out his phone. “Do me a favour?” Jaskier asked. Geralt assumed there was something he had to sign off on about the charity date. “When the red light blinks, please say that you acknowledge our date related to the charity auction is officially over and all fulfilled?”

Geralt repeated the message when the light blinked, and then Jaskier turned off the phone. He was about to wish the man well, when he was pulled into a hard kiss. Fuck, Jaskier tasted even better than he had in that alley, and the drying sweat, the aura of adrenaline was so fucking heady. Jaskier’s hands were under his shirt and Geralt pulled the man into his lap. There was a house right there, but neither could wait that long. Geralt was thankful Jaskier lived at the end of the street under a busted street light. 

Jaskier was grinding down on his lap, and it was almost a lap dance and fuck Geralt wanted more. He undid his jeans, moving them just enough to pull out his cock, and Jaskier was doing the same. Geralt held them both, stroked them off together in one hand. Lube would help a lot but they didn’t have any and he didn’t care, just chased the feeling building in his spin. Jaskier was biting his neck and fuck it Geralt bit him back. He groaned as the orgasm rolled through him and it wasn’t even two more strokes and Jaskier spilled too. 

They were both breathing hard and Jaskier’s forehead was against his. “What the fuck do you do for a second date?” Jaskier asked.

“Don’t know, never dated remember?” Geralt replied. He rubbed calming circles into the small of the man’s back. “And besides this wasn’t a first date, it was a charity date.”

“So, I guess we’ll have a first date then?” Jaskier asked. “If you are interested.”

“I think I am,” Geralt said. “But know, I’m a good boy, I am betting I don’t put out on the first date.” They both looked down at their cocks, hanging out of their pants, sticky with come.

Jaskier snickered. “I promise to be respectful.”

“Fuck, I hope not,” Geralt replied. He had baby wipes in the door because hunts and a daughter with motion sickness, and cleaned them both off. He even tucked Jaskier pant into his pants, did them up. “Text me?”

Jaskier nodded, and kissed his cheek of all things. He grabbed his phone and slid out of the truck. “Bye, Geralt.”

Geralt just grunted. He waited until Jaskier was in his stupid tiny house, and then drove home. Eskel was in the living room, playing Ciri’s video game system. It was far too pastel and happy music for Geralt’s taste. He grabbed a beer and sat next to him, watching him play happy fun island whatever it was. “Those butterflies are worth a lot,” he pointed.

“My net broke.”

“So craft one.”

“I can’t find any tree branches.”

“Shake a fucking tree.”

“I’m playing my game, you play yours. Also you smell like sex.”

“Hand job not sex. Turned out house was haunted, and he got off on it.” Geralt sipped the beer. “For fuck’s sake dig that hole there will be a fossil in it.”

“No, I am not in a fossil mood today. I want to plant flowers.”

“Fuck off,” Geralt said. He watched a bit longer. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“Yeah yeah,” Eskel looked at him. He squinted. “You had a good time.”

“I had an orgasm, of course I had a good time.”

“You had a good time,” Eskel repeated. “Interesting.”

“If you call Yen to gossip about me, I will eat your goat.” Geralt went to bed and didn’t dream of anything at all. When he woke up, he could smell crepes. Only one person he knew made crepes. “I’m eating your goat!” he shouted. He was not getting up, no matter how good they smelled. His phone binged and he checked it.

_Homemade raspberry jam too_

Fuck Yen and her awesomeness. He got up and had a quick shower. When he went out to the kitchen Ciri and Dara were there eating and their eyes kept straying to the barn. Yen made him up a plate and her grin terrified him. “Who wants to see Ciri’s new horse, Kelpie?” He asked to hopefully buy himself some time.

“We do,” Ciri and Dara shouted, they were both in their school uniforms a quick visit before the day began. Food was shoveled into their mouths at appalling speeds. Geralt ate a bit slower, but not by much. They finished and he rinsed the plates. 

“Let’s go,” he said and tossed both kids over his shoulders.

“I will get details.”

“You can suck my dick.”

“Grossssssss,” Ciri whined. Dara snickered, well used to their antics. When his parents asked what it was like with Ciri’s family, he lied and said they were very serious and solemn, with the weight of their duties heavy on their shoulders. He didn’t mention the one time he saw Geralt get mini marshmallows stuck in his nose because Ciri dared him to put them there. 

Geralt carried them to the small barn. “Here you go my girl,” he said and showed her the horse. He hugged her when she started to cry and then he left her and Dara alone to get to know Kelpie. Yen was waiting outside. “It went well.”

“Really?”

“Fuck no, but uhhh, we have plans?” Geralt scratched his cheek.

“And you are going to tell me everything,” she ordered. He threw an arm over her shoulder and told her fuck all because Ciri and Dara burst out of the barn on Kelpie’s back, hanging on for dear life. He went in and grabbed Roach, and hurried to rescue his daughter, and was perhaps a bit relieved to be avoid Yen’s questions. Or a lot relieved. Fuck, she was going to buy him so many new clothes if he actually started dating. But that wasn’t the concern right now, catching Kelpie was. Fuck, he really shouldn’t have gotten that spirited a horse for Ciri.


	4. Chapter 4

Geralt glanced at the clock, and dutifully wrote in the time into the log book and signed his name. “Sir, the school doesn’t allow weapons on the premises.” The guard swallowed heavily as he glanced at Geralt’s swords.

“No,” Geralt replied calmly. “Swords and everything else stay with me.”

“Everything else?”

“I have nine weapons currently on my person, how about you spend until I sign out thinking where they might be,” Geralt suggested. He walked through the school, felt bad because he was making a bit of a mess of the hallway, sewer filth on his boots no matter how he had scraped them off. He was also still dripping a bit. And there was blood on his armor. The bag he had in his hand for Yen, was also dripping a bit. He’d have Eskel bake cookies for the janitorial staff. The walk to the headmaster’s office was well known by this point, and he was almost whistling as he went. He couldn’t actually whistle a tune, just a few calls, but he liked to try. 

He gave a wave when he saw some students in the hallway when they should clearly be in class and snickered as they bolted. Geralt knocked on the office door and went in. “Hello, I am here for -”

“Ciri and Yennefer are already in with the headmaster,” the secretary said. “Ask me, you can talk him down to in school suspension.”

Geralt grinned, “My thanks for the head’s up.”

He didn’t bother knocking as he walked in. Ciri was sitting there, her uniform a bit dirty, a scrape on her cheek. But there wasn’t the scent of another’s blood on her, so likely not a fight this time. Also the headmaster hadn’t had a quick belt from the flask in their desk before their arrival, so it couldn’t be too serious. “Happy anniversary, Yen,” he said as he handed her the slightly dripping bag. “Some eyeballs and pituitary glands.” 

“Thank you darling,” Yen said. She held up the bag to her nose, sniffed. “Ohh, lovely, a bit of marrow too?” She licked the dripping bag, and Geralt had to cough so as not to laugh at how the headmaster went pale and gagged. He could hear Ciri doing the same covered laugh. “These are perfection.” Yen waved a hand and the bag disappeared.

“Which anniversary?” Ciri asked.

“Third time we broke up,” Geralt answered easily.

“Mmm, that was a good one, the fight actually destroyed a bridge, and brought that troll couple back together.”

“Good times,” Geralt leaned down, and kissed the top of Yennefer’s head. “Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll cook your favourite,” Yen agreed. 

“Yay!” 

“Wait, yay? My favourite involved a couple varieties of dead animal, why are you yaying are you finally off your meat is murder kick?” Geralt looked at Ciri. 

“I am murder,” she growled, and Geralt was tickled pink at her copying of him.

“Not yet pup, a few more years. We’ll let you murder something for your sixteenth birthday.”

“Melitele save me, remember you are here because your daughter is a -”

Geralt and Yen’s eyes both snapped to the principal’s. “Is a what?” Geralt asked slowly, and he could feel the power that Yen was drawing to herself.

“Cirilla is a student who consistently flouts the rules of our school,” the headmaster said firmly. “Today, she decided she didn’t need history class, and instead needed to crawl through the duct work system.”

“There was a godling stuck in there, I had to help,” she protested. 

“There was?” Geralt was surprised at that. 

“Well no, turned out it was just a few rats. I killed them with my dagger. But it -”

“That is the other thing!” The headmaster banged their hands on the desk, “there are no weapons allowed on school grounds!” He was staring at the swords strapped to Geralt’s back. 

“She has a dagger so that she doesn’t have to use her other weapons,” Geralt said. “And it is to keep her safe.”

“We have excellent security here,” the man protested, “what could be after one little girl?”

“Vampire.”

“This bastard named Stregobor.”

“The entire army of Nilfgaard.”

“I hardly think -” the headmaster began, and Yen dropped a bag of coin on his desk. He stared at it. “You can’t bribe me into accepting Ciri carrying a weapon on her at school.”

“Fine, Ciri will not carry a dagger on school property.” Geralt smiled at him. “Keep the money for uniforms or something. Now shall we talk about the safety of a school that is infested with rats and no employee noticed, and my daughter was forced to take care of it?”

“Two days in school suspension for the knife,” the principal said. 

“Of course, but this has all been traumatic for Ciri, and we’ll take her out for the rest of the day,” Yen smiled at the man. “Please wait until we have left the outer office before you start drinking.”

“I kept the rat bodies for the science class,” Ciri offered. “Put them in a bag. You’ll make sure they get there right?”

“Please leave,” the man said and Geralt herded his family out. Geralt and Yen could easily hear the sound of a flask being opened and managed to control their laugh.

Geralt signed them all out. “Guess where they were?”

“Six of them,” the guard said after a moment. “Lots in those boots right?”

Geralt nodded. “Mmmhmm,” he agreed even though there was only one thing in his boots - his feet. “Good work.” They went to the parking lot, Geralt’s truck next to Yen’s hearse. “Who you riding with, baby?”

“You,” Ciri said. She opened the door, and caught the smell. “Nevermind, I’m riding with Mama.”

“If you want to be a witcher, you have to get used to the smell of sewers and drowner guts,” he reminded her. 

“I’m going to be a pirate,” she declared, like she did every other week. 

“Then it is fish guts, not that much a different smell.” Geralt laughed as she flipped him off. He settled in behind the wheel and followed to Yen’s house. They hung out and played board games, until they all started cooking together, an old Rivian stew that he adored and only Yen could make well. Ciri did eat some, her vegetarianism slowly becoming more situational. 

“So, how are you going to keep your word that Ciri won’t have a dagger on her at school?” Yen asked. “Because no fucking way am I letting Ciri go unarmed.”

“I know,” Geralt swore. “I went shopping. And then Vesemir helped me adapt some things.” He excused himself and went to get a bag from his truck. He came back and opened it up, began to pull things out. “So girls like makeup,” he said. He had spent a long time thinking about this. “And also Ciri now bleeds monthly and that comes with certain advantages.”

“Oh really? It does?” Ciri asked and Geralt ignored the way that Yen smirked at him.

He laid a few things out. “Vesemir and I had fun with this. Ummm, palette right? Because a girl might want to change her eye shadow up?” he thought maybe. He opened it and it showed four eye shadows and a small mirror. “You can wear them as eye shadow but also if you add a little aloe gel, they become corrosive eat through any metal.” 

“Nice,” Yen nodded in approval.

“Barrettes for your hair,” Geralt held them up. “Metal, like many wear but the ends are different lock picks, screwdriver.” He picked up a small bag. “So this is for tampons or pads, whatever you use.” He had to clear his throat a bit. “In the lining is small throwing knives.” He held up a tube. “Lip gloss, carries an electric charge, one jolt could knock out a six foot man.”

“What’s this one?” Ciri picked up a compact.

“Blot powder.”

“Is it a poison, secret compartment?”

“Uh, no. The woman at the store said no girl wants a shiny nose, so that one is just blot powder. I mostly bought it because I wanted the bag it came with for free.” He held up the little bag. “It was perfect for this.” He opened it and out fell a wolf medallion.

“Dad,” Ciri whispered. Geralt looked to Yen for confirmation who gave a little nod. She even reached out and squeezed his hand. “Really? That is only for witchers.” Ciri’s fingers were trembling as she reached out.

“Forces in this world want you, my darling. Some are mundane and some aren’t. This will at least help you know when trouble is coming. And you fucking run - you hear me, Cirilla? No being a hero, no nothing. This glows, you fucking run, you stay alive, you come to us. It has a couple added enchantments so if yours glows, your mom and I will know and coming running to you. You run away, we run to, that is how this works.”

Ciri nodded solemnly, and Geralt draped it over her neck, his heartbeat quickened just for a moment at seeing his girl wearing a wolf medallion. He wiped away her tears and kissed her head. “You run away,” he reminded her.

“I will,” she agreed. “Unless Dara is in trouble. Or it is something small. Or -”

Geralt pulled her into his lap, and held her tight. “Stop being so much like us.”

“But there is no one better than the two of you,” Ciri squeezed him tight. “I’ll stay safe, Dad.”

“I know,” Geralt didn’t know, just hoped, but it was all they really had. “I need to head out, finish up those drowners in the sewers.”

“They’ll still be there tomorrow. You could stay the night,” Yen offered. “Your bed is ready.” It always was.

But Geralt was feeling a bit too overwhelmed. He kissed both of them, and headed out. He had to take some Cat to finish the job and afterward was restless. He could go home, beat the shit out of some training dummies, but that wouldn’t take care of everything. A hunt and familial emotions was just so fucking much. He found himself driving until he was out front a very tiny house at the end of a lane.

He picked up his phone, and his hands were shaking a bit. He texted, _wanna fuck? I’m outside your house._

Only after he sent that, did he realize how fucking creepy that was. It was 1am, Jaskier was likely asleep, and they hadn’t even been able to make their schedules work for that first date. He rested his head against the steering wheel for a moment and took a few slow breaths. The light at the corner of his eyes changed. Jaskier’s porch light was on, and the front door now open. Okay then.

Geralt got out of the truck, made sure that the doors were locked. He went to that insanely tiny front door and had to angle and stoop in order to get into the cottage. He was relieved that inside was indeed much bigger and taller than it seemed. Jaskier was standing there in a robe that looked quite luxe. It was black with a lot of embroidery and he could see so much chest hair. Made him realize they had sort of fucked twice and hadn’t seen each other naked. He wanted to bite the man. “I have sewer on me. I should shower?”

“Please. You want a drink?” Jaskier asked. Geralt nodded. Jaskier gestured and Geralt found the bathroom. Small but attractive with intricate tile work everywhere, and he sighed in pleasure at the dual shower heads. He turned the water far too hot and stepped under the sprays. It felt so good and calmed his brain a bit. He scrubbed down, and had to quickly rinse, because the soap was a bit too strong a scent. He tossed into out of the shower and into the sink. He then just stood under the spray.

“Knock knock?”

“Hmm?”

“I have whisky,” Jaskier said. “Can I?”

“Sure,” Geralt replied, not quite sure what the man meant but the curtain pulled back and Jaskier was in the shower with him, two low ball glasses in hand. Geralt took it and sipped. It was a whisky cocktail sweet and sour at the same time. He liked it. He also liked the look of Jaskier. Strong shoulders and thighs, all that hair, that long cock.

And a belly button ring.

“Cute,” Geralt said. He took another sip of the whisky and watched as Jaskier did the same. 

“Used to have a few more piercings,” Jaskier traced his ear, lip. “But well, we all get old.”

“Not all,” Geralt finished his whisky and pulled Jaskier in for a kiss. The water was pouring over them and their glasses dropped, which thankfully they had been plastic tumblers. He backed Jaskier against the wall and pulled him up a bit. Jaskier’s legs were around his hips and it was the first time they were properly skin to skin. “You are fucking gorgeous,” Geralt whispered against his neck.

“And water sucks for fucking. Especially when I have the best bed your ass will ever touch,” Jaskier said.

Geralt wanted him now, but a bed sounded good. They barely dried off, and Jaskier took him to the bedroom. Which was mostly all bed. “Restless sleeper,” Jaskier explained.

“Don’t care, we aren’t going to be sleeping.” Geralt pushed him down. He stood there for a moment and looked at him. “I want to bite your thighs, mark you up.” He waited with a raised brow. 

“I have no problem with that.” Jaskier reached into the beside table and pulled out lube and a condom. “I uh got tested after that first time. When we didn’t.”

“Witchers can’t get disease,” Geralt explained.

“Don’t feel like dealing with a lot of come tonight,” Jaskier said, and was clearly waiting to see how Geralt would react. 

Geralt just shrugged. “Fine then, don’t come until I can suck you off and swallow,” he said and grabbed the lube as he settled onto the bed.

Jaskier blinked, “I’ll make sure to do that?” 

Geralt was done with words, and sank his teeth into Jaskier’s thigh as he slicked a finger and pressed against Jaskier’s hole. He found himself leaving mark after mark on Jaskier’s thighs as he worked the man open. He wanted those thighs around him. “Rimming?”

“Yeah, good, all good,” Jaskier agreed. 

Geralt pulled his fingers out and put Jaskier’s thighs on his shoulders. He began to lick at Jaskier, taking lube and skin, and loved the way those thighs moved against him. Another time he wanted those thighs pressing him down on the bed. Geralt had a million scenarios that he wanted with the man. He moved away and enjoyed the way Jaskier whined at the loss of contact.

Geralt put the condom on. “Don’t come,” he ordered Jaskier, and oh did that make his pupils dilate. He now had two million thoughts about the man. He lined up and pressed in. “Fuck,” he groaned. Jaskier felt as good as he remembered. 

It took a minute but they got a good rhythm going, until Jaskier growled, “Put your back into it.”

Geralt’s control snapped and he didn’t care about being gentlemanly or particularly human, he just moved Jaskier’s body how he wanted and fucked into him hard. There were going to be more bruises on the man come morning, and he relished the idea. Geralt bit at his neck, as his hips thrust and he didn’t know how long it had been, didn’t really care, just chased the feeling, until the orgasm crashed through him. 

Geralt pulled out and dealt with the condom and settled back between Jaskier’s thighs. He didn’t tease, didn’t try to play at it, he just sank down until all of Jaskier’s cock was in his mouth and swallowed the bit that was in his throat.

“Fuck,” Jaskier shouted. “Fuck, Geralt, fuck!” He kept cursing as Geralt bobbed his head up and down. He pressed his fingers into Jaskier, stroked his prostate as his mouth and throat worked around the length, and perhaps he was a bit smug about the way that Jaskier almost screamed as he poured down Geralt’s throat. 

Geralt waited for all the spasms to finish and then moved up the bed, kissed Jaskier. “Not a drop of come anywhere on your pretty body, or pretty bed.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier said, breathless. “Fuck.”

“Mmm,” Geralt agreed and lay down, pulling Jaskier on top of him. “Thanks for turning the porch light on.”

“We really should try for that first date at some point,” Jaskier laughed.

“We should,” Geralt agreed. “How do you feel about ropes in bed?” It had been in those million thoughts that he had.

“Amenable,” Jaskier said. “Want to stay the night?”

Geralt was tempted, but he needed his own space. “Not tonight.”

“Another night though?”

Geralt could hear the tentativeness in Jaskier’s voice, the hope. “Another night.” He kissed the man’s head. He stroked Jaskier’s back for a bit, and when the man had drifted off, Geralt let himself out, made sure the stupid front door locked behind him. 

He drove home, whistling, or as near as he could manage.


	5. Chapter 5

Geralt was doing his best to cope, but it was difficult. They were finally having their first date. He was pretty sure. Jaskier asked Geralt to join him at a street art festival, and Jaskier was regularly holding his hand as they walked. Jaskier had bought him a waffle on a stick, Geralt had bought some monster stickers for Ciri to put on the dozen journals she had floating around her room. Geralt was pretty sure this was fun.

And he was hating every second of it.

Well, he didn’t hate the hand holding, that was nice.

But it was a sunny day, which meant he was in sunglasses that Yen had had to enchant to actually make them dark enough for him to cope. There were so many soap stalls that it was close to giving him a nose bleed, and just so loud with a damn acoustic guitar or singer at every cross road on the streets. He could smell Jaskier’s happiness though, so he didn’t mention that he was about an hour out from a hideous migraine. He had a small vial in his pocket that could help tamp down the witcher senses, but it also dulled his emotional reactions, and he was enjoying Jaskier enough that he didn’t want that to happen.

“Oh, there is a stage, there will be more music!” Jaskier had turned a corner and was almost bouncing. “And I actually know the first act, they are wonderful. Shall we grab a coffee and listen?”

Geralt absolutely did not want to do that. “Sounds wonderful,” he agreed. “I know a coffee shop around here. Latte?”

“Iced would be perfect,” Jaskier agreed. “I’ll get us seats near the front so that we can properly enjoy the music.”

“Hmm,” Geralt grunted. He turned and wound his way through the growing crowd, smelling happy people, jealous people, a million things, and that migraine was growing ever closer. He ducked down an alley and a turned a few corners until he reached a dead end. It was quieter and only smelled of rotten food which was preferable to the sickly sweet of all those soaps for sale. Geralt knelt, took a few slow breaths, and then his medallion warmed. He looked up and there between the crates was a godling. “Hello,” he whispered. “As lost in Novigrad as I am?”

“I had a nice crate in a nice corner,” the godling replied. “I was minding my own business! And I went for a walk in the sewers, find the shiny things people drop, come back, and it was ruined for all the ugly art.”

“There was a lot of ugly art out there.”

“My piss on the bank’s walls is more artistic.” 

Geralt smiled at him. “Do you want a new home in the city? Or out in the woods?”

“I miss the woods some days,” the godling replied. “I’m Petrovia Alexander Nikolai Balzac du Toussaint.”

Geralt wouldn’t laugh at mouthful, remembering what he once had wanted to name himself. “I’m Geralt of Rivia.”

“The White Wolf?”

“Mmhmm,” Geralt felt his headache being pushed away. “That you?”

“You seem nice. Want to play a game?”

“Sure,” Geralt agreed. 

“Geralt?” They both turned at the call.

“Is he going to be mean?”

“No, I don’t think there is a mean bone in Jaskier’s body, but I can pretend I didn’t hear that.” Jaskier would be fine, the godling was looking worse for wear.

“Would he like to play too?”

“Probably.”

“Down here,” Petrovia called in a perfect mimic of Geralt’s voice. Geralt gave him a look and the godling giggled. “Jaskier, I am here.”

“Impressive trick.”

“I’m good at mimic,” he said proudly. “It is one of the games I play.”

“Fun game, I bet.” Geralt saw Jaskier out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t take his eyes off the godling. He was mostly harmless, but it was good practice to not take your attention away. “Jaskier this is -”

“Gregory Misha Balfor Edric von Nilfgaard,” the godling said.

“Another game?” Geralt asked.

The godling giggled, and Geralt smiled. He did enjoy their company when he stumbled across them.

“You need me to go break your lock box again to get your swords?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt saw the godling flinch and start to retreat.

“No,” Geralt kept his voice calm. “No witcher worth their weight will harm a godling unless there is no choice.”

“But in that documentary the cat school -”

Geralt growled a little and the godling spit. “Fuck the cat school. They are monsters, take any contract, no matter that some creatures aren’t monsters.”

“But well -” Jaskier gestured at the blue child with bones around his neck, some of them were human bones.

“I didn’t kill none of them. I find my shinies in the sewers like any respectable gent. All sorts of pretties in drowner shit piles.”

“That is actually true, if you dig through drowner shit balls you can find a lot of interesting things.”

“What’s the best you found?” the godling leaned forward to Geralt. “I found me a nose ring, nose still attached!”

“A silver ring, that I gave to the woman I loved,” Geralt said. “She still owns it.” Yen had it in a small box along with other treasures he had given her over the decades of circling each other. “She’ll pass it onto our daughter one day. Enchanted gives enough of a jolt will make a man piss himself.”

The godling giggled more. 

Jaskier sat in the filthy alley next to Geralt. “I haven’t exactly gone digging through drowser -”

“Drowner,” both Geralt and godling corrected.

“Drowner’s shit, but I have gone through owl puke?” Jaskier said. “Summer camp when I was young. You can put together mouse bones if you go through the mess they throw up after eating.”

“Wow, that sounds great. The woods you want to take me to Geralt, they got owls?”

“They do,” Geralt promised. “Now what game do you want to play?”

“We can play another time, I can only hold back your headache so long, and I’m bored with Novigrad, need to get back to nature or my name isn’t Illyia Boris Tavil Nathanial of Temaria.”

“Headache?”

“It’s nothing,” Geralt dismissed. “Now we need to get you to my truck, is one of your tricks making people not notice you?”

“It is! That’s a fun game,” Illyia clapped his hands and he was there but not. Geralt could see him easily with his witcher senses. “I can’t do this, and stop your pain though.”

“I’ll manage,” Geralt promised him. “Sorry, Jaskier, I need to get Illyia out of the city. You enjoy all the soaps and edgy paintings. I’ll text you in a few days.”

“I could come with?” Jaskier asked. He was looking four feet to the left of Illyia.

“I don’t mind,” Illyia nodded. “He smells nice. Not as nice as garbage almost rotten, but nice.”

“He does smell nice,” Geralt agreed.

“Thank you,” Jaskier was looking at him, and Geralt focused on Illyia. “Trust me?” 

“Sure,” Geralt agreed.

“Follow,” Jaskier said, and Geralt and Illyia did. Geralt was surprised, because Jaskier was able to lead them through the fair keeping to the edges, down side streets that were quieter. It took them a bit to get to where they had parked, but the pounding in his head hadn’t grown worse. They had met there, and Geralt looked at Jaskier. 

“Following or riding with us?”

“Riding with,” Jaskier decided. 

Geralt nodded and opened the back door of the truck. Ciri had long out grown booster seats but he had his potions case and put that on the back bench. He boosted Illyia up and buckled him in. He appeared and smiled. Geralt smiled back at the slobbery kiss on the cheek he was given. 

Jaskier had easily boosted himself in and Geralt settled behind the wheel. Once they were on the bridge out of Novigrad, Geralt watched Jaskier turn to Illyia. “So, what are you?”

“I’m me, what are you?”

“I suppose I am me too,” Jaskier replied, and Geralt smiled a bit.

“Well we can’t both be mes, that is just too many mes, so I’m going to be me, and you are you. Much easier.” Illyia nodded. “You smell like music.”

“I’m a music teacher, write some songs.”

“Do you know any gross ones?”

Geralt choked back a laugh as Jaskier was clearly trying to think of something appropriate. “Actually, I think I do,” Jaskier said after a moment. He cleared his throat. “Once there was a queen of Cintra, Calanthe was her name, she was so scary and mean, why one day she swallowed a fly, I don’t know why she swallowed a fly, perhaps that’s why she died.”

Geralt knew the children’s song, and Jaskier kept it going for a long time, Illyia clapping along. At the end, Geralt couldn’t help himself. “I saw her drink blood, but never actually swallow a fly.”

“You knew Calanthe?” Jaskier was clearly shocked. 

“A bit,” was all Geralt was willing to say on the matter. He sure as fuck wasn’t going to mention that Ciri was a direct descendant. They had all worked very hard to destroy or hide any information that Ciri was the rightful ruler of Cintra. They were enjoying their republic and they could keep enjoying it. “She was…difficult.”

“I am going to want that story,” Jaskier said. “Oh, that is a lovely house.”

“It’s mine,” Geralt said. “Good bit of protection spells on the woods around it Illyia. Will you need help finding a nice burrow?”

“My name is really Johnny.”

“Hello, Johnny.”

“You’ll come visit and play?” he sounded a bit nervous. 

Geralt stepped out of the truck, and opened the back door. “I will. I have brothers, and a father, a daughter who will all love playing with you.”

“Are they like you?”

“Witchers? Yes, but all wolves and follow the true code.”

“Think any will bring me drowner shit to dig through? Don’t look like you gots bogs around here.”

“Lambert could probably be convinced,” Geralt said after a moment. “Ready?”

“My name’s not really Johnny,” the godling said as he held up his hands.

Geralt helped him out of the car. “I like this game.”

“Me too. Bye!” the godling disappeared out of Geralt’s hands. Geralt watched the woods for a moment and felt them shift a bit settle. 

“They are happy a godling is home,” he said mostly to himself. “Going to rain tonight.” He turned a bit and if he wasn’t a witcher, he would have jumped at having Jaskier right there. “Hi,” Geralt said. “Umm, drive you back to the city?”

“Could I see your house?” Jaskier asked.

“Sure,” Geralt said. “I don’t…humans don’t come over a lot, so don’t freak out?” 

“What you sacrifice virgins in the living room, black mass altar?” Jaskier joked.

“No, the altar is in the woods, clearly,” Geralt huffed. “Altar in the living room, you’d need the whole ceiling to be glass to get the moonlight you need for an element call.” He shook his head. “Humans.” They were so silly. “No I just meant there are lots of weird bottles and weapons that you shouldn’t touch.” Geralt opened the door, and gestured for Jaskier to head on in. “I’ll make coffee.” His stomach growled and he realized it was past lunch. “And grilled cheese?”

“That sounds good.”

Geralt headed to the kitchen, and was surprised when Jaskier followed. “You can poke around a bit.”

“There was a dragon skull on the wall, that had a neon pink feather boa over it, and a potion started to hum at me. So I think that I will stick next to you.” Geralt watched as he hopped up on the counter. He went over and picked Jaskier up and moved him to another part of the counter. “I need those cupboards.” He went into said cupboards and pulled out some bread and a few other things.

“That is homemade bread.”

“Eskel is on a kick, made some loaves.” Geralt got some coffee going and pulled out the cast iron pan. “Anything in with, or just cheese?”

“What would I put in?”

Geralt shrugged. “Can put in some bacon?”

“You heathen. A grilled cheese is a grilled cheese.” 

Geralt nodded and heated the pan. When the coffee was ready, he poured them both cups. It was quiet and the smells were all known, the lights off; he thought he might luck out and avoid the headache.

“Geralt, you know if you want to just be fuck buddies, we can do that,” Jaskier said.

Geralt looked up in confusion. “Huh?” He frowned. “Did you…were we talking and I zoned out? I know I do that sometimes, but usually not in the middle of a conversation like that.” He stared down at the lunch fixings but they were all still in parts he hadn’t lost time engaged in a simple task like he sometimes did. “What was the start of the conversation?” He looked around like he would somehow find the conversation sitting at the kitchen table, waving hello.

“No, that was the start of the conversation,” Jaskier said. He wasn’t hiding, just looking at Geralt calmly, easily. “If attempting to date me is such a trial for you, we can just fuck until something else comes along.”

Geralt looked at him. “Is that what you want?” 

Jaskier’s gaze was so calm, “Geralt not everything is a grand romance. We have killer chemistry and sometimes that is all you are looking for.”

Geralt didn’t know how to respond. Fuck he wished he could text Yen, hell he’d even welcome Lambert’s advice at this moment. Instead he focused on making sandwiches. When they were done he plated them up and put them on the table. “Eat,” he ordered. He was relieved when Jaskier sat. The man was acting like everything was chill, but Geralt could smell the nerves on him. Geralt ate the sandwich and the tilted his chair back to reach the whisky bottle on the counter. He added a splash to his coffee, raised a brow and when Jaskier nodded added a bit to his as well. “I told you I’ve never dated, and that is true,” Geralt said after a moment. “I’ve had a couple grand romances. Stories for the ages. There are fucking power ballads on the radio that are about me and Yen. We were big thirty years ago. Lost memories, dragons, another woman. It was grand and epic and I loved it. And I hated it. I don’t want a grand romance, Jaskier.”

“So, we’re all good then,” Jaskier smiled and drank half his coffee. “I’ll just call a ride, unless you want a blow job.”

“A grand romance involves fancy restaurants, and street fairs where we hold each other’s hands, concerts, movies, and I cannot do most of that,” Geralt picked up his mug, he didn’t drink, he just wanted something to hold. “The city for more than a couple hours hurts.”

“What do you mean hurts?” 

Geralt sighed. “You’ve watched that doc on the cat school, you know witchers took mutagens, changed. I have triple in me than any other witcher. All my senses are heightened. Smells, hearing, sight. I wanted to be on a date with you, and you sounded so happy about the street art fair.”

“And it was making you sick,” Jaskier seemed to realize. “But you were at the auction, and you go into the city.”

“I can do specific events, preparations, meditation, potions. For example the charity auction, there was people talking but no extra music, the smells were just people and food, regular lighting. It is when everything is all sort of thrown together.”

“Very sunny day, food smells, what people were selling, all the different buskers. So what you exist in a perpetual state of sensory overlord?”

“Yes,” Geralt said. “I have some potions, that can help but they make everything remote and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to not experience you, enjoying it all.”

“So let me make sure I understand this,” Jaskier finished his coffee. “You like me so much that you were willing to put yourself in an experience that would actively hurt you, just so I could be happy?”

“Yes, it seems so,” Geralt frowned. “That sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“Because it is bad!” Jaskier waved a hand in the air. “You should have said.”

“But that is what humans on dates do, I did an online search on dating habits of modern men.” Geralt realized what he had just admitted and decided to fill his coffee cup again.

“That is, fuck, what am I going to do with you?” Jaskier asked.

“I have no clue, what the fuck do you want to do with me?” Geralt leaned against the counter.

“What are things that hurt you?”

“Swords, spells -”

“No, I meant like social things that people do?” Jaskier rolled his eyes.

“Ahh. Concerts are really bad. Yen took me to one and I was in bed for three days. And not in the fun way.” Geralt thought about. “Things that you enjoy because they are loud and bright? They’ll hurt me. But you are the sort that likes that type of thing.”

“And I’m the sort that has a lot of friends that I can do them with,” Jaskier countered.

“Lunch in quiet parks?”

“I can do that,” Geralt said. 

“Wait, we met in a bar,” Jaskier frowned.

“Post mission adrenaline,” Geralt explained. “I can handle loud, if it is dark and has a unified scent. Bars, I just smell alcohol and desperation. Gardens smell overwhelming, but are quiet, and can still be enjoyed at night.”

“My cottage has a nice garden in the back,” Jaskier said. “Bench great for having a drink on.”

“There is a drive in, an hour away,” Geralt offered. “I know that’s a bit of a go, but I can do drive ins.”

“You know, those are just about making out, more than the movie.”

“I like the stale popcorn,” Geralt said. “Movies where the monsters are zippered suits and I can see the zipper.” Geralt looked at him. “I don’t want to fuck buddy you. I want to date you, but I can’t date like humans do.”

“Then we’ll date like how we do,” Jaskier replied. He got up and came over and settled on Geralt’s lap. Geralt put his hands on Jaskier’s hips. “Don’t hurt to make me happy.”

“That’s how every relationship I’ve been in has worked. I don’t mind.” To Geralt it was simple.

“I mind,” Jaskier said and Geralt felt something shift inside his heart when Jaskier kissed the tip of nose. “You don’t want a grand romance - what do you want Geralt of Rivia?”

“You,” Geralt answered swiftly because it was all he could think.

“You can have me. Just not right now. Right now, you are going to give me a tour of your house, and then drive me back to my car.” There was a kiss to his forehead next and Geralt liked that one too. “Is all music off the table?”

Geralt shook his head. “I liked when you sang to the godling. Your voice doesn’t hurt.”

“I’ve never had a better compliment. Show me all your skulls, Geralt.”

“Only like three more,” Geralt muttered. He stood up, and Jaskier stood with him. Geralt gave him a tour of his home, except for Ciri’s room because that was hers. He drove Jaskier back into the city. “Next week? You could come back to the house? I grill a mean steak.” 

There was a kiss to his cheek and he liked that one most of all. “How about you grill me a nice steak, save the mean one for the man with 16 swords on his wall.”

Geralt snorted and watched Jaskier head to his car, waited until the man was gone before he headed back home.


	6. Chapter 6

They were on their horses in the woods, when Geralt heard Ciri clear her throat. And when he glanced at her, she looked guilty as fuck. “So morning ride idea, was because you have something to tell me and I am not going to be happy, hmm?”

“I also wanted a morning ride with you,” she smiled and it was the smile that had convinced him to start her weapons training at 8 even though they had all agreed 10 was early enough. It was a smile that meant their weekend plans were going to be radically different than what he had thought. “But I do have a small, really minor problem. Just need a bit of help with it, hardly any really.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Last time your mother said that to me, I ended up in half a boat on top of a mountain in Skellige.” He didn’t mention that that was when they truly ended their romance, it wasn’t relevant right now. “So, what is up?” Even his witcher hearing couldn’t pick up what she said. “Try again? When a witcher fucks up, they square their shoulders, and accept the consequences.”

“Lambert says, _Oops guess it sucks to be you_ and runs away when he fucks up.”

“No saying fuck,” Geralt reminded her, “And we may pattern ourselves after pretty much anyone on the whole continent except Lambert.”

“What if I am to be a genocidal, racist, fascist like that Radovid king a couple hundred years ago?” Ciri challenged, and Geralt knew she was also trying to distract him. And at least he now knew she was doing well in history. Shit, parent conferences were probably coming up. Those didn't go great. He blinked to focus himself back to the problem at hand, which was no patterning after Lambert.

“Consider what he did to your mother and her friends, I doubt you would, and also still a better pick than Lambert.”

“Wait, you knew King Radovid?” Ciri stared at him in shock. “Geralt, but he was two hundred years ago! You are only what 130?”

“I don’t actually know,” Geralt admitted, “Time lines get a little weird, pockets of there and not. Who I say I know right now? A few years maybe I didn’t because we did something or didn’t do something.”

“Oh,” Ciri looked at him. “Would you ever not know me?”

Geralt held out his hand and she took it. He squeezed tight. “Cirilla, I swear I could forget everything, my cause, my name, everything I am, everything I have done, and your name would still be on my lips.”

“I love you, Dad,” she smiled and he smiled back.

“And I love you, and you are now going to tell me the fuck up.”

“I have a science project due Monday,” she explained.

“Oh, so you have to finish writing your report, no big deal,” he was surprised she was that worried about them losing out on some video game time. He looked at her. “Ciri…” She was not meeting his gaze, and he let out a bit of a grunt and gave his best dad face that he had practiced in the mirror when she was young to make sure it wasn’t his full glare down an alderman face, but still packed a decent enough wallop. 

She met his gaze, and tried that smile again. “I haven’t even started yet?”

“And our ride is done, you will be taking care of both horses when we get home,” Geralt said firmly, “and no personal electronic devices all weekend.”

“Yes, sir,” she sighed, “Not like I’d have the time anyways if I am going to get this done.”

“We,” he said, “We’ll get it done.” Because he was furious that she had forgotten a project like that, but he wasn’t going to leave her to hang. “What are you supposed to do?”

“Observe how different circumstances affect an object,” Ciri explained, “So, like, Dara bought a bunch of the same potted plant, treated one properly, over watered another, kept one away from sunlight etc, and then observed and noted how fast they died.”

“Oh you need to observe how long things take to die? We can hit the swamps and you can see how long it takes a drowner to die from a gut wound versus limb removal.”

“Thanks, that sounds fun, but it isn’t about death, just you know cause and effect.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said as the house was in sight. “Well, you get the horses taken care of and we’ll think of something.” They arrived at the small stables and he dismounted. While she put them to rest, he went in the house and began to furiously search on line for age appropriate science experiments but they were all kid science or things they could not get done in two days. “Fuck,” he groaned. 

The front door opened, “Asshole, help me unload my pay!” Lambert shouted.

Geralt froze, and the fear he was not supposed to feel anymore coursed through his veins. He went out to Lambert’s truck and the bed was full of…junk food. “I don’t understand.”

“Gas station had imps fucking with them. They offered to pay me, cash, but like they were imps barely any work, so I took it in goods.” Lambert grinned. “We got a bit of almost everything they sell in the store at gas stations. Great, right?”

Geralt looked at the mess of food, drinks, and windshield fluid. “Actually? Not bad.”

“It’s because I’m the brains of this operation.”

Geralt rolled his eyes but started unloading everything. “Glad you are here,” he said as they carried it all into the garage.

“Fuck, a job?”

“Sort of?” Geralt smiled at him. “Ciri has a science project due Monday. She has not begun.”

Lambert just snorted. “Why the fuck am I helping with that problem?” He was carrying cases of something that Geralt didn’t recognize.

“Because you love her, you jackass.” Geralt realized this was an all hands on deck situation, and sent texts to Vesemir and Eskel as well. There was something else he needed to do and couldn’t quite remember, mind so focused on Ciri. It would come to him. “Get ready for two days of science.”

“Oh, joy,” Lambert flipped him off as he went back to the truck. He paused, “Actually, wait. I have an idea.”

Geralt paused, “I was looking up options online.”

“Geralt, we all have our strengths, right?” Lambert was smiling, and Geralt honestly took a step back. “Yours is the sword, Eskel signs, and me? Potions and bombs which really are just chemical reactions. Which is science, so yeah, I’m taking point on this. You finish unloading the goods.” Geralt grew increasingly worried when Lambert took one of the crates into the house.

But honestly, as much as he hated it, Lambert would actually be the best of them to help on a science project. When he finished unpacking the truck, Vesemir and Eskel were both pulling up. “Science project?” Vesemir gave him a look. “Remind you of anyone?”

Geralt smiled, not realizing that that was the smile that Ciri copied when she was trying to get out of something. “No idea, sir,” he figured a sir would help. Vesemir just snorted and they went inside where Lambert was showing Ciri how to draw a data chart. 

“Look, your dad is a fucking moron, so I think we’ll just ignore anything he says to counter our plan.”

Geralt was quite relieved when Vesemir also looked terrified. “Thank you, Lambert.”

“You’re welcome,” Lambert smiled at him, and Geralt flipped him off. “So, you chart it out like this. A column for each of us, and then we want to show our baselines. Temperature, pupil size, common personality traits, then you mark what each of us will be doing, and then you are going to want a column of our responses every about 45 minutes for 6 hours, then if you really want to wow them add in a 12 hours and 24 hours check.”

“How the fuck does Lambert know all that shit?” Eskel was in shock.

“Look I have done a lot of trial and error about the bombs I build, chart it all out to make sure they are the best.” Lambert didn’t even look up. “Good,” he said and Geralt smiled at the supportive hand Lambert had on Ciri’s shoulder. “Now, go get the thermometer, and you’ll want a few other pens, colour coding. People with sticks up their asses love colour coding, and science teacher? Bet giant stick up their ass.”

Geralt watched Ciri kiss Lambert’s cheek to annoy him and ran to get the supplies. “Thank you.”

“Fuck off,” Lambert didn’t make a show of wiping the kiss off as he had when they had first gotten Ciri. “Besides you don’t know what she is analyzing yet.”

“I assumed witcher physiology. Have us do some practice, and then study our body’s reaction,” Vesemir shrugged, “It should be a solid, but not brilliant project.”

Eskel frowned, “There is that whole spread in that athletic magazine on the bear school, I worry the teacher will think she plagiarized.”

Geralt frowned because, look Lambert obviously cared, but he was still fucking Lambert, and there was that crate. And he was smiling too much. Ciri came back and dutifully took all their temperatures and wrote careful notes about each of them in the book. “Backyard,” she said and Lambert picked up the crate. Geralt stepped outside as a portal opened and out came Yen with a tray of coffee beverages and a man, that Geralt could smell was a cat witcher. He growled and moved in front of Ciri.

“He is fine,” Lambert said quickly, “the one cat who isn’t a complete asshole, like how I am the one wolf who actually has any sense.”

“Aww, you do care about me,” the man said.

“Look, fuck off Aiden, you are here for science,” Lambert replied, “Thanks for getting him, Yen.”

“I used any means necessary,” she smiled, and Geralt enjoyed the way this Aiden sort of eased away. “And your drinks.”

“Wait, you are doing a favour for Lambert?” Geralt was really worried he had slid into another dimension again. 

“Technically it is for Cir,” Yen put on her mom face, “whom I will be having a homework talk with this week, that she will not enjoy.”

“Dad took away all electronics for the weekend,” Ciri said swiftly.

“Good,” Yen settled in on the bench. “I am here to help you with your observations.”

“Right, now Geralt won’t trust Aiden to be a part of the altered groups, so he is going to be your control in your experiment,” Lambert explained to Ciri. “Tell me what that is.”

“He is my unchanged baseline that the rest are measured against. Hello, Mr. Aiden,” Ciri gave a little bow, “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to finally meet Lambert’s family.”

Geralt stared at Aiden, and so did everyone else.

“We’ve done a few jobs together, shut up, this is about a very quickly arranged science experiment. Focus, you want your kid to get kicked out of school?”

Geralt was going to be having a talk with Lambert later, a long one, because Aiden was beaming at him, and Lambert was very specifically not looking at him in return. He waited while Ciri made the last of her notes. “So you need us to grab swords, go through our paces?” 

“No, see that is too easy, doesn’t really show enough scientific rigor,” Lambert reached into the crate, and pulled out a couple cans. “She is going to study the effects of human energy drinks on witchers!”

“Jaguar?” Eskel took one of the cans, “You are going to make us drink something called, _Jaguar Rush Extreme_?” He stared at him. “No.”

“So you can be the frozen coffee beverage, to see if a more traditional means of coffeeing it up, has an equal effect,” Lambert smiled. “Go ahead, tell Vesemir you want the whipped cream drink.”

Geralt snorted, Vesemir was addicted to frozen coffee drinks.

Ciri was bouncing. “My project and with the suggestions Lambert made, I suggest this. Aiden is our control, Grandpa drinks his frozen coffee thing, Eskel drinks the recommend one, Dad drinks two in that first forty five minutes, and Lambert drinks 4.”

Geralt watched Eskel who was carefully reading the label and ingredients on the can. “These are the double strength ones, it recommends no human drink more than 2 in an entire day.”

“Yeah, but we aren’t humans, so we should be fine,” Lambert said. “And makes it interesting for her, doesn’t it?”

“I like it.”

Yen was laughing on the bench and drinking an iced green tea. “So do I,” she agreed.

“So, how long do I have to sit here?” Aiden asked.

“Six hours, sir, and you could send me your data at 12 and 24 hours,” Ciri was earnest. “I really appreciate you helping out.”

“It’s not a problem. Lambert never shuts up about you, so happy to help.”

“What the fuck?” Vesemir and Eskel both shouted. 

“How does a goddamn cat know about my daughter?” Geralt was stalking forward, ready to murder.

“Nothing, shut up, he’s fine, and he knows I’ll kill him if he tells the others about her,” Lambert said and cracked a can open, drank the whole thing in a few gulps. “Oh gods, it tastes like wyvern ass.” He cracked open a second but didn’t start drinking it. “He’d never hurt Ciri.”

Geralt glared at Aiden who just sort of smiled at him, and started playing on his phone. Lambert was an asshole, but he wasn’t a liar, and if he said Aiden was trustworthy, then maybe he was. But he’d keep an eye on the cat. Geralt watched Vesemir collect his drink from Yen, and they started chatting. Geralt took the can that Eskel tossed him and opened it. Fuck, it did taste like wyvern ass, and fuck his life that he did know what that tasted like. He shuddered, “why, why would you take this as payment?”

“Mostly I wanted the jerky, and I went mad with power,” Lambert slammed down the second one. “Taste does not get better,” he gave a belch that had Ciri cheering.

Eskel was sipping his. “I think it tastes more like kikimore ass, than wyvern.”

“My triple shot, mocha chip with extra whip is quite delicious,” Vesemir called out. They could all hear the slurp of it. Yen had sunglasses on and tilted her head up. 

Geralt choked down the rest of the first can. “I will pay you to be the two can person,” he begged Eskel. He looked over and Aiden was handing Lambert the third and rubbing his back. Lambert was not punching someone for touching him. Geralt glanced at Yen, and pointed at his head and then to Lambert and Aiden, but she just shook her head. He did the gesture again and made a gesture that he would pay her.

“Darling, you do not have enough money to bribe me to peek into Lambert’s head,” Yen called to him. “The coffers of the whole of the North don’t have enough money for me to look into that abyss.”

“You wanted her to spy on me?” Lambert growled and Geralt braced as his brother launched at him and they were fighting.

He could hear that Aiden say, “that hit him fast, Ciri shouldn’t you be noting aggression in your chart?” 

“Aggression? That is just Dad and Lambert,” she made a face at him. “Actually, I am curious about a thing about the cat school.”

“No, you aren’t,” Geralt and everyone else, even Lambert, shouted. He and Lambert were still rolling around on the ground, not even really punching, just sort of…Yen called it playing but they were training for something.

They were playing.

“It is true, you shouldn’t be too curious about the cats, we are bastards,” Aiden agreed. “I mean, clearly something must be wrong with me, I hang out with Lambert.”

“Hey!” Lambert stopped rolling to glare at him.

“You need to drink your third one, Lambert. Remember it is for science! Dad your second one.” Ciri was giving them the smile and they both sighed.

“I hate you, and we are talking about Aiden later,” Geralt whispered to Lambert.

“No we aren’t, and I hate you too,” Lambert replied, and they both ignored that Lambert gave him a hug as they stood.

“I have completed the beverage,” Eskel told Ciri. “I currently do not feel any different.”

“Thank you, Eskel,” Ciri smiled and made a note in her journal, “Aiden, do cats have a heightened sense of smell?”

“Yes, we do,” Aiden answered. He handed two cans to Lambert. “Chug.”

“So, are cat witchers idiots enough to announce out loud where their daughters are in their monthly cycle?” 

“If you don’t want us to notice when you are bleeding from your junk, don’t bleed from your junk,” Lambert replied. He took a deep breath, and chugged the third. “And look at least I didn’t make your first period weird, your father did that.”

“I think that Cirilla is referring to it all in general,” Vesemir called out, “you pups tend to just blurt out whatever comes out of your mouth. You don’t see me pointing out that she is ovulating right now.” Yen elbowed Vesemir and he looked at his drink. “I feel the third shot might be causing some problems. My apologies, dear girl, for sounding like as large an idiot as your father.”

“Like I didn’t learn it from him,” Geralt muttered to himself and finished the second drink. “Done, baby, now what?”

“Now just hang out, and we’ll see reactions,” Ciri said.

Eskel sighed, “You should note in your journal how the drink impacted Vesemir, because aside from the fact he ran his mouth more than he would, his sense are dulled, you won’t actually ovulate for about another ten hours, maybe eleven. Remember, it is still hurting a bit so in about nine hours drink that half potion Triss made for you.”

“Thanks, Eskel,” she replied and turned to Aiden, “See do cats do all that to their girls?”

Aiden was looking at them all in horror. “What the fuck?”

“What?” they all replied. 

Lambert went over, “What’s wrong?”

“So much! You don’t just talk about a girl’s body like that! It is weird and wrong and -”

“Cats kill godlings, so you can just fuck off with that,” Geralt growled, “And will we talk about the dragons of -”

“I wasn’t a part of that,” Aiden snapped, “I used to be more like my school, but then I met Lambert and he kicked my ass when I was going to kill a rock troll, and I changed okay?”

“Good boy,” Vesemir praised Lambert, and they all made sure to ignore how much that perked him up.

Geralt looked at Ciri. “Does it bother you, we can stop.” They would try to stop anyways, all the wolves had the habit of blurting out too much. But for her, they would all try hard.

“You never do it in public, just around family,” Ciri said, “And I mean, I’ve seen you pee write your name in the snow, and brain yourself on a wall when Mama wore leather pants because even though you two aren’t together anymore, you still think she is the most beautiful creature in the world, so I am fine with it all.”

Geralt glanced at Yen, “Because she is the most beautiful creature in the world, though you will surpass her one day.” His girl was going to be a stunner, it was obvious.

“Oooh, Mama are you gonna get jealous and have a huntsman carry me off to cut out my heart so you can eat it and remain forever young and the most beautiful in the land?” 

“No, darling, if I was going to kill you for your beauty, I would do so myself because I love you,” Yen replied and sipped her drink.

“Thank you, Mama, I appreciate that.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“You know, Lambert makes so much more sense to me now,” Aiden said, as he looked at all of them. “I thought he was the outlier in his group, like me, but nope you are all feral idiots.”

Lambert finished the last energy drink. “There we go, Vesemir you done?”

“I am only a bit of whip cream left.”

“There you go Ciri, note the time, and that we have all finished our drinks.” Ciri made a dutiful note. “Now we just all hang out do whatever and see what happens.”

Vesemir and Yen started playing Gwent, Eskel grabbed a sword and went through his forms, Ciri was working on the beginnings of her report. Lambert and Aiden were talking, and Geralt decided to attend to raking. He loved raking, but there were days that the sound of the tines scraped at his brain too much. He went to the shed and grabbed the rake. He set to work, and the sound wasn’t bothering him as much as it did some days. He felt not bad actually. He had his family around, and a cat but he wasn’t bringing out the murdery feelings cats usually did, the sun was shining, and it was great. He was focused on his task in a way he often couldn’t on mundane things. 

When Ciri called that it had been forty five minutes he was surprised. He went and answered all her questions. He felt more focused and calmer than he often did around people, even if they were just his fellow wolves. And he remembered what he had forgotten earlier. “Jaskier was going to stop by, drop off the clothes I left at his place.” Geralt glanced at Lambert who was doing back flips across the backyard, using aard to give extra oomph to the flip. “I should text and tell him not to stop by.”

“Too late, pup, hear a car,” Vesemir was tilting his head. “A tiny one.”

“He drive a weird little clown car,” Geralt agreed. “Something is wrong with it.” As if witchers didn’t drive around with severed heads in the back of their trucks. “Lambert?”

“I can see time moving around the world, when you speak the words drip golden from your plush lips, and I see that Ciri has wings. She has pretty wings. One day she will fly away from us. Why you gonna fly away little bird? We are wolves creatures of earth and stone, we can’t keep up with you, protect you. Don’t fly too far,” Lambert looked at her. “No, you must fly, we can’t cage you. Cages, cages, chains, Aiden you should buy me pretty chains. Aiden buys me things, it is nice. Eskel! Try to light me on fire as I run!” Lambert took off running, and Eskel shot a bit of fire after him.

“Interesting,” Ciri said, “Dad, should I mention in my report that my uncle is apparently into chains, and has a sugar daddy from the cat school?”

Geralt was watching Aiden, and something must have scared the cat because he was starting to back away. “I trust you are being good to my little brother?” Geralt growled.

“Yes, sir,” Aiden said automatically and then paused. “Wait, I did not say that. I’m not scared of you.”

Geralt moved closer, “You really should be, because he is an asshole, but he is our asshole, and he has been hurt too much in this world.”

“I only hurt him in the way he likes,” Aiden said quickly.

“Gross,” Ciri made a face.

“Fuck, an hour around you people, and I am over sharing in front of a child. I just buy him things because it is fun, and we have fun, and it is no big deal.”

“He buys me pretty daggers,” Lambert ran and was on Geralt’s back, and Geralt held him. “He likes me to have the best stuff. Cats have more money than us.”

“Beggars have more money than us,” Eskel called.

“They do, and Aiden spends his on me!” Lambert hopped off. “I can fly too,” he said, and used aard in a way that Geralt hadn’t thought of before. He decided to try it too, and soon all of them were following suit, even Vesemir.

Geralt waved mid air when he saw Jaskier with a pile of clothes in hand. “Hiya,” he shouted, mid air. He rolled and then stood walked over. “We are a science experiment.”

Jaskier gave a look to Ciri, “The science project that your form has due on Monday?”

Geralt remembered that Jaskier was a teacher at Ciri’s school, and not just a boyfriend. “No no, just a fun family project. She is a good student and very much had that finished days ago.”

Jaskier just looked at them and ignored the charts that Ciri was filling in. “Mmmhmm,” he said. “Here are your clothes, and I’ll just - wait it is sunny, isn’t it hurting your eyes?”

“No, not really,” Geralt hmmed, a bit. “Yen! Study me!”

Yen came over, and cast a bit of magic. “Your shirt is interfering with my readings, take it off,” she said and Geralt did as she said, automatically. 

“My shirt is burning my skin,” Lambert called and ripped his off. “Shirts are bad, I’m never wearing shirts again.”

“I mean I don’t object, but then I can’t buy you pretty clothes,” Aiden pointed out.

“When I am older, I think I am getting a sugar daddy,” Ciri declared. “But boys are stupid, except Dara and he isn’t that sort of boy. Are there sugar mamas?”

“Stop saying sugar daddy,” Geralt begged his daughter, “But yes there are, your mother had more money than I did and used to buy me things.”

“Interesting,” Yen’s hands glowed and then stopped. “Eskel, be a dear?” Eskel took off his shirt as well and she cast. “Lambert can you stand still?”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOPE!” He shouted as he bound around.

“Yrden, Geralt,” she requested and Geralt obliged and Lambert was trapped.

“Mean!” Lambert pouted and Yen read him.

“Ciri, would you like my findings?”

“Yes, please Mama, and also you need to tell me why you had them take their shirts off.”

“So I could enjoy the view,” Yen replied. “I enjoy well sculpted men.”

“I…think I’ll leave that out of my report,” Ciri said. “They aren’t attractive, they are pack.”

Geralt beamed at her, went and gave her a kiss on the head, “We are your pack,” he agreed.

Yen cast on Vesemir who had stayed dressed. “Basically, Vesemir and Eskel are fine, maybe a little heightened, but not much. Lambert is…” They all looked over, and he was climbing a tree. “Lambert is six ways of fucked up. It seems four double human energy drinks can even impact a witcher. Honestly the next few hours should be fun.”

“And Dad?”

“That is the interesting thing,” Yen was looking at him a mix of concern and Geralt also saw tentative hope in her eyes. “Humans have a condition, ADHD, and for many with this caffeine doesn’t act as a stimulant, but instead calms them down. Helps them focus. It seems that the two drinks are actually helping your father with his sensory overload problems.”

“Wait, did we fix Geralt with this experiment?” Eskel was moving forward, and Geralt appreciated the support to lean against. 

“It is hard to say,” Yen said, “This is something we have to study. A long term project, but there is potential here.”

“I have coffee every day,” Geralt said, “it hasn’t done this before.”

“Are you drinking the _Jaguar Rush Extreme_?” Jaskier was looking at the cans littered about the yard. “Those are crazy messed up, there is a group trying to get them taken off the market, because they are almost unsafe for humans.”

Geralt looked to Lambert. “How many did you get from that store?”

“We have thirty more cans, they don’t sell well!” Lambert cartwheeled over. “That chain of gas stations is planning to discontinue selling them.”

Geralt frowned a bit, “We’ll have to buy up a bunch.” He hated the taste but if helped the sensory problems, he’d live with the taste. 

Jaskier was frowning, an even more impressive frown, “that stuff will kill you.”

“No, it won’t,” Geralt didn’t think. “Not 2 cans a day for the few hundred years.”

“We should actually wait for me to complete the experiment for school, see if the impact only last a little while on you, Dad, because if it is only a couple hours, not really worth it.”

“I thought this was a fun family experiment?”

“Well, we are having family fun,” Ciri smiled, “Look Grandpa is shooting arrows at Lambert! Family fun.”

Geralt turned, “I want to try to kill, Lambert.” He looked around. “Yen, where are my throwing knives?”

“In the knife cabinet, obviously,” Yen said. She cast and the knives came flying out. Geralt jumped up and caught them and started flinging them at Lambert who cast quen and rolled. Geralt forgot about everything, but playing with his fellow wolves, and soon Yen was got in on it, throwing out magic, and Ciri screamed, knocking them all over. Soon it was just a huge wolf pile of chaos and tickles and joy.

Geralt was pinned by both Ciri and Lambert who were tickling him ferociously, Lambert knowing his weak points from decades of attacks, and Ciri knowing because his girl was smarter than everyone. He tilted his head and looked at Jaskier upside down. “Save me!” he called out, as he freed an arm and reached for Jaskier.

Jaskier cracked open one of the energy drinks, and sat on the bench. “No,” he replied and tipped sunglasses off his head and onto his eyes. “Aiden, tell me the inside track on dating a witcher.”

“Well, you see -”

“NONONONONONONONONO,” Lambert ran and tackled Aiden, and covered his mouth. “No,” he begged.

Jaskier clapped his hands, “Everyone back to Ciri’s science project that I am pretending is not being done at the last minute. Mainly because the science teachers all sneer at the arts.”

Geralt stood and carried Ciri back over to her charts. “To work,” he encouraged.

“Fine, everyone, line up for temperature check!” 

Geralt was first and then went to sit next to Jaskier. “Thanks for bringing my clothes by.”

“Of course.”

“She’s generally a good student,” Geralt was watching Ciri take notes, as Lambert literally couldn’t stand still. It would be interesting to watch him crash. He breathed in the fall air. “You staying around?”

“You seem busy.”

“We are, but you can help me rake leaves, it isn’t hurting today.”

“Only if we can jump in the pile after.”

“Never actually done that,” Geralt said after a moment.

“You’re older than dirt,” Jaskier was clearly shocked. “Every kid has done that.”

“I haven’t,” everyone around called out.

“Melitele, we are fixing this,” Jaskier said and Geralt raked leaves into the piles at his direction. Ciri was to have first jump but Lambert was incapable of impulse control right now and dove in first.

“Sorry, baby,” Lambert called as he emerged.

“You will be,” Ciri war cried as she ran and dove in as well. They started throwing leaves at each other. Geralt was itching and he knew Yen would never admit how much she wanted to jump in as well.

Geralt grabbed her hand, “jump together, just like always?”

She smiled and they ran in and joined the fight. Soon they were all laughing and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a sad smile on Jaskier’s face, and he was clearly leaving.

Geralt grabbed a handful of leaves and ran so that he was in front of Jaskier. He dropped them on the man’s head. “Where are you going? You didn’t have a jump yet.”

“You are having family time, I should go.”

“Aiden is playing, and he isn’t family he’s a fucking cat,” Geralt said.

“He’s a cat, not a fucking cat,” Lambert shouted, “There’s a difference!”

“I am actually a fucking cat, I mean I have -” Geralt was quite happy when Lambert dunked Aiden back into the leaves because he didn’t want to know what the end of that sentence was going to be though it was an easy guess.

“Stay, play with us,” Geralt urged. “You are fun to play with.” Geralt huffed and rolled his eyes at the smirk Jaskier gave him. “I don’t mean like that, I just meant, we never would have thought to jump in the leaves.”

“And eat them!”

“Oooh, that is interesting, I need to add it to my chart. Lambert eating leaves.” 

Geralt booped Jaskier’s nose, “Incoming human,” he shouted at picked Jaskier up and threw him at the pile. He then dove in after. 

The next morning, instead of coffee, Geralt drank one of the energy drinks, and he heard a shout. “Hey Ciri, make a note in your chart, that stuff made my shit blue!”

“Thanks, Lambert!” was called back.

Geralt decided a morning ride was a very good option, and headed out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the story lives!!!!!!!

“I know I said you could dress casually, but I don’t think that is quite what I meant,” Jaskier sounded faint. “Also, it is November, aren’t you freezing?”

Geralt frowned, “Nope.” He shrugged, “Full winter I’ll put on a denim jacket. Or this shearling coat Yen bought me, but mainly because I look good in it, not because I need the warmth. And what are you picturing?”

“Describe the coat for me, dear heart?”

“Are you perving on my winter coat?”

“I’ll let you know after you describe it.”

“It is modeled after the old ursine armor. Black leather that reaches my ankles, inside is lined with white furs, heavy belt with a heavier buckle to hold it in place, and you are definitely perving, over a coat?”

“Over you in nothing but that coat,” Jaskier was almost purring. “That image will keep me thinking happy thoughts, since you are wearing…that.”

“It was what was clean in the truck. There was a slight cockatrice problem, which meant there was a large bile problem. Enough water in the cooler to rinse my hair not the clothes Yen picked out for me to wear. There were all there was. Do you want to cancel?” They were going to a cafe to listen to music. Jaskier swore that it would not hurt Geralt, that the lights would be low, and it was an invitation show only so it wouldn’t be crowded. Geralt knew he could trust Jaskier and that if the man swore it was fine, then it was fine.

“Tell me does your ex always pick out your clothes for our dates?”

“Yes,” Geralt was a bit confused, “is that wrong?” He looked down at himself. “Trust me, she didn’t pick these. These were gifts from Lambert for father’s day, when Ciri was too young to pick stuff out.”

“That explains it. He was getting you dad clothes? No, actually it doesn’t explain it at all. But if we are late, my ex will kill me. She is far scarier than your ex.”

“Now that is a statement and a half,” Geralt muttered and got back in the truck. Jaskier hopped in and gave him directions. After a bit, he recognized it. “Zoltan owns this place.” He smiled pleased.

“You know Zoltan?” Jaskier sounded surprised.

“Hmm, we worked together once, matter for a king. He is a good man.”

“You two…”

“No, why have you?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Jaskier replied, “neither can he. We’ve agreed that waking up in bed together naked suggests maybe something happened? But we’ve also agreed to never speak of it.”

“So you speak of it all the time to annoy him,” Geralt guessed, he was understanding the man more and more every day.

“Every ninety minutes to the dot,” Jaskier grinned. “Let’s go.” They went inside the Rosemary and Thyme, and Geralt looked around. The tables were farther apart than they usually were in a place like this, and the candles few and low. No piped in music until the show started. And those few tables were only half full. “Huh, the place won’t make much money tonight.”

“Well, Dandelion here never makes requests, so when he did tonight and said it was for you, we were happy to oblige,” Zoltan said. “Geralt, welcome to our establishment.”

“Our?”

“Aye, I could never afford a place like this on my own, and Jaskier gave me a bit of a loan.”

Now that was surprising. “You are a teacher. You said you were eating ramen after you bought me at that auction.”

“Repairs were needed so I didn’t have Zoltan pay me back for a few months,” Jaskier was flushing, “And I had maybe invested in a couple other things, and blew my quarterly allowance.”

“Allowance, I don’t understand,” Geralt was at sea, and that was never a thing he enjoyed. He let Jaskier guide him to a table that a tiny reserved note on it. They sat and Zoltan brought Jaskier a glass of wine, and Geralt smiled when he was handed a coffee. “Zoltan, I missed this tar.”

“Only person I know who likes my coffee.”

“It isn’t coffee, it is a portal through bloody time,” Jaskier shuddered a bit. “I have a heart murmur because of that damn coffee.”

Geralt drank half the cup and settled back into the wingback chair. “Nice place.”

“It is,” Jaskier smiled. “I tend to do my marking here. Far more comfortable than my office.”

“Did you really change it tonight so that I would be more comfortable?”

Jaskier smiled at him. “I did.”

“Now I feel really bad about my clothes.”

“Oh, why?”

Geralt looked down at the pink flamingo board shorts and the teeshirt that said _Who’s Your Daddy?_ “No, you are right, this look perfect next to you.” Geralt grinned and Jaskier snorted. “Zoltan is not ex who is scarier than Yen though.”

“He is pretty scary with the accounts receivable.”

“You should see him with an ax,” Geralt was about to say more, when a spotlight went on the stage. A woman moved to the center of it where a stool was waiting. She sat down, her long blonde hair cascading down her back, perfectly straight. Large eyes, no perfume, strong fingers. “Hmm, she does look terrifying.”

“You have no idea,” Jaskier said. “You’ll understand.”

Geralt held the coffee and settled back into the chair. She began to sing and Geralt did indeed understand. She was a siren. It was a creature that humans completely misunderstood. They thought they were beautiful half women that sang sailors to their doom. They weren’t. They were half women but they mostly were just ocean harpies, screamed a lot and shit on you as you took them out with your cross bow. Voices like hers were the siren, notes born out of the conjunction of the spheres. Humans had had music before then. But it wasn’t understood to be like this. She was utterly human but song like that hadn’t always been.

Jaskier stood up and Geralt watched him go to the stage. Geralt supposed she had the technically better voice. But she wasn’t better. Zoltan took over Jaskier’s seat an ale in hand. “Took longer than I thought it would for him to get up there with her.”

“Are you going to tell me that what they have is in the past and I don’t have to be jealous?”

“Do you want me to?” Zoltan held out his mug, and Geralt tapped his coffee cup against it. “I can, if you like.”

“No need,” Geralt said. “I’m just happy to enjoy the music.” He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. He listened as they sang together old songs, passionate romances, and he laughed too loudly when they broke into a song about he and Yen. He cracked an eye open and she looked confused, but Jaskier was smirking at him. Geralt pointed at the words on his shirt and quirked a brow at Jaskier and the man giggled in the middle of the ballad about grand love and destiny.

“Does he care about Yen?”

“Probably a bit,” Geralt said, “But not in the jealous way you are asking.”

“Have you properly explained you two?”

Geralt snorted, “I can’t properly explain us, so how do you think me trying to a person who wasn’t there, and isn’t my daughter would go?” They moved into other songs, ones that Geralt didn’t know. “What is that?”

“Some ditties he wrote,” Zoltan said. “He sings in here every other week, draws a good crowd. If it wasn’t against the rules of the family will, he’d have signed a recording contract years ago. Instead he teaches.”

Geralt finished the coffee. “Now you are wanting me to ask about that, and I’m not going to.”

“Harumph,” Zoltan muttered.

“Gwent sometime?” 

“Aye,” Zoltan agreed and went to see to a few costumers. Geralt sat back and closed his eyes again, just listened until the set was over. He didn’t open them until Jaskier was next to him, and the woman’s scent settled as she sat down.

Geralt looked at her. “You are beautiful,” he said easily. “You are a siren.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“No, you are human.”

“I am afraid I am lost,” she replied. “Hello, I am Priscilla.” She paused like she was waiting for a reaction. “Priscilla?” she repeated.

“I heard you,” Geralt held out his hand. “Geralt of Rivia.”

“Oh, yes, pleasure.”

“Wait, you aren’t playing,” Jaskier looked at Geralt in shock. “You just had an almost private concert with Priscilla and you don’t care?”

“Am I supposed to?” Geralt pulled out his phone and texted Ciri. She knew this sort of stuff. “My daughter just sent back a lot of screaming emojis and said I need to take a photo with you.”

“I would be happy to,” Priscilla moved closer and he took a photo and sent it to Ciri. A minute later he got a video of her and Dara both screaming. “May I?” she asked and he gave her the phone. She hit and video called. 

“Dad, you met Priscilla, holy hell, oh my god oh my god oh my god!” Ciri was almost screaming. Fuck.

He tore the phone from Priscilla, “Baby, calm, don’t scream my love, shh, breathe, calm yourself.”

“Dad, there is a difference between fan screaming and screaming. You are sitting next to Priscilla.”

The woman in question touched his arm and he almost put his elbow through her face, but Jaskier’s hand on his thigh centered him. “Hello dear, I am Priscilla. You it looked like your father almost fell asleep at the quasi private show Jaskier arranged for him.”

“Dad, you didn’t!”

“What? I like Jaskier’s singing, I was paying attention, he’s better than her, but she is good,” Geralt replied wanting to defend his boyfriend who choked on his wine as Geralt spoke. Dara had gone pale and Ciri’s eyes were glowing. “What? I said she sounded like a siren!” That was a good thing.

“OH. MY. GOD. I am so embarrassed,” Ciri breathed out. “MAMA, DAD IS AN IDIOT!”

“I know dear, but we all endure,” he could hear Yen call back.

“Ma’am, I am so sorry for my father. He has been dropped on his head too many times by griffins and it has damaged his hearing.”

“Like five times,” Geralt snapped, “And it is obvious that Jaskier is better than this lady. Jaskier is the best singer I have ever heard.” Geralt dropped the phone because he face was grabbed and Jaskier was in his lap, kissing the hell out of him. He was dimly aware that Priscilla had picked up his phone and was talking to Dara and Ciri, but he was focused on how it felt like Jaskier was trying to suck his soul out. “What was that for?” he asked when he was allowed up for air. 

“I am letting you fuck me anyway you want tonight,” Jaskier said.

“Uh,” Geralt looked over.

“Don’t worry, darling, I had already hung up and your daughter said she will education your clueless ass this weekend.”

“That’s nice,” Geralt agreed. Jaskier was heavy against him. “We’re going to be going now. You sound good. Guess good luck with your career? Sure you’ll be famous one day with how well you sound.”

Jaskier was now laughing so hard he was almost crying. 

“That is the dream,” Priscilla agreed. “Enjoy fucking him. I always did.”

Geralt looked at her. “That third song you two sang, was about me and Yen. Nothing you can suggest will shock me. I’ve done it on a stuffed unicorn.” He picked up his phone and put it in his pocket, carried Jaskier out to the truck and headed back to Jaskier’s. When he parked in front he asked, “Just exactly what did you mean by anyway I wanted?”

An hour later he was trying to catch his breath and reached up, pulled the knots loose, checked Jaskier’s wrists, settled the man on top of him. “That was a good anyway.”

“Stay for a bit of a cuddle?” Jaskier was flopped on him, and Geralt was running his finger through the sweat in the hairs at the small of the man’s back. 

“I thought I might spend the night tonight?”

“Oh,” Jaskier was quiet. “You don’t have to.”

Geralt tilted his head up. “I want to,” he said quietly. “I’d like to point out we have something in common.”

“What’s that?”

“We’ve both loved insanely beautiful and talented women way out of our league.”

“You didn’t get dumped for a recording contract.”

“No, I got dumped for losing my memory, and making a stupid wish on a djinn, but I dumped her on top of a mountain.” Geralt thought about it. “There was also a couple minor ones in there too. Melitele we were a fucking mess. But a beautiful one.”

“So were we,” Jaskier agreed. “Drink?”

Geralt nodded. Jaskier threw on that lush robe of his and Geralt stayed naked. They sat in Jaskier’s tiny kitchen, each holding a glass of whisky. “I could have joined her. On the road, with a shiny contract. But that is unseemly for a Viscount. Do you know I think my parents would have liked that? They were so proud of my music. Made all their friends listen to my concerts, recorded everything I ever did. And they died. Car accident. My uncle inherited the title until I was of age. And it turned out he did some fancy footwork. I only inherit what is mine when I am 45 and have lived a life worthy of the title. I don’t really want it, but it is one of the few things that my father wanted to pass down to me. A musician not respectable enough. But a teacher at a private school is. Investor in property is, even if it is a shoddy cafe run by a dwarf. Still property.” Jaskier sighed. “I want to just say give it to your kids, I don’t give a shit.”

“But you do,” Geralt said.

“But I do,” Jaskier agreed.

“It is called Kaer Morhen. It is where the wolves trained, where I was raised, where we were all raised. It was mostly destroyed but we still lived there. I raised Ciri there for a bit, until she was getting a little too feral. We agreed she needed the city. I was so sure, the others would stay at home. Where wolves belong. Lambert was the one who said it first. Pack not stone is home. And they all moved here. But fuck if I don’t miss that stone.”

“I would like to see it.”

“In the spring, we were all going to go, for Ciri’s birthday.”

“You think we’ll still be together in the spring?” Jaskier was rumpled and Geralt could see bite marks he had left on that pale skin. He reached out and traced a finger along the rim of Jaskier’s glass. He took it out of Jaskier’s hand and finished it, lining his mouth up where Jaskier had drunk.

“There is more I want to do to you tonight,” Geralt said and tugged him back to bed. 

He was restless for his woods when he woke, but he left a note on the pillow beside Jaskier. You’ll like the flowers that bloom in spring at Kaer Morhen.

When he got home, Eskel was making waffles. “Hey have you heard of a singer named Priscilla?” he asked as he stole one from the stack.

“You mean the woman in the poster behind Ciri’s door?” Eskel asked. “Won a gazillion awards, most beautiful woman in the north. Activist, best selling musical artist Priscilla?”

Geralt pulled out the phone and showed the picture he had taken to Eskel. “I think Jaskier arranged a private concert for me? I think I was supposed to be impressed. I said he was a better singer than her.”

“Fuck that got you laid hard last night, I bet,” Eskel said.

“It was the truth, and yes it did.” He stole another waffle and went down the hall. He peaked in Ciri’s room, and oh yeah the woman he met last night was on her wall. Huh. 

He still thought Jaskier was a better singer.


End file.
